


Breach Below Lionheart

by Withpetals_withblood



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Kaiju, M/M, Multi, PTSD, Pacific Rim - Freeform, Romance, Science Fiction, Suspense, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 144,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withpetals_withblood/pseuds/Withpetals_withblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After five years the rift in the Pacific re-opens and the Jaeger program launches with more ferocity than ever before. A new team with fresh pilots is built around the world and Stiles Stilinski is recruited to be a part of the revolution. After leaving Brown University, Stiles is thrown into a life he never saw himself living, a life full of amazing new friendships, brutal battles and incredible bonds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

# Breach Below Lionheart

### Chapter One

Rhode Island was always humid in July, humid enough to make the students attending the esteemed Brown university hide inside their dorms and wish they had taken their family up on the offer to visit home for the summer. The air outside tasted like salt and the wind was stale and uncomfortable when it ghosted across the near empty campus. Stiles was one of those un-lucky students whose internship had been approved during their summer vacation and he was currently walking into Morriss Hall, drenched in sweat and carrying far too many books for two arms to handle. His back hit the door and he pushed it open to step backwards into the air conditioned dormitory.

Relief fell across his lips in the form of a soft sigh and amber eyes closed when the rush of cool air bit at the soaked long sleeve shirt he had foolishly chosen to wear. His friends from high school had asked him what it would be like to move across the country and have absolutely no one to fall back on. They had all chosen closer schools or paired off and made adolescent pacts to go off to college together and have an adventure.

Stiles was different, though. His answer had always been simple: I'm not a coward.

He thought about everyone from time to time; his old lacrosse buddies and how they were probably living the stereotypical college life, full of kegs and decent looking sexual partners and not passing classes that he had already taken in high school. A smirk played across his mouth as he thought about it but his expression dropped when the staircase came into view.

It was a daily ritual to thank the heavens that him and Danny were on the second floor of the dorms instead of the twenty-second, because hauling hard-covered literature books up that many flights of stairs would have killed him within his first semester. Even so, walking up to his room after trekking his way through campus wasn't something he was looking forward to, but he shifted the books in his arms and lumbered up to room 213. 

"Jesus... this is just," Stiles cursed under his breath as he fidgeted with the doorknob, his arms trembling as he tried to keep the books and folders steady.

It had been a long day. A day full of grading essays written entirely in Portuguese and trying to explain to his eighty-two year old professor what Krispy Kreme doughnuts were. He pressed his shoulder against the door and grumbled something about how 'perfect' this situation was and how convenient it was for Danny to not be home but to his surprise the door opened and he stumbled through, papers raining down towards his feet and books slipping out of his grasp to topple onto the carpet. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulder to steady him as Stiles' eyes widened and he tried to regain his balance.

Danny laughed when his roommate tilted his head back and heaved an aggravated sigh, swatting Stiles on the back, "I don't know why you always insist on taking the stairs when you know we have an elevator, especially with your strange obsession with carrying, like, every single one of your books everywhere with you."

Stiles narrowed his eyes and pushed the black rimmed glasses up on the bridge of his nose before he leaned down to start shuffling the papers back together. "I didn't know you were back from that thing with Laurie yet, how was it? Did you get her brothers number?"

Stiles shot a coy smile over his shoulder to Danny who lidded his eyes and shook his head back and forth, burying his head in his hands before he reached down to grab a couple of the books off the floor.  


"No," he started, licking over his lips, "but I did talk to him for a little bit, he's, uh, he's actually submitting his application for the new Jaeger program."

Stiles went rigid and stared at the ground. This was an argument he really did not want to have right now and it was obvious by the way his jaw tightened and his fingers gripped the plastic of the binder in his hand that he would not be having any of Danny's ridiculous ideas thrown at him. He cleared his throat and walked over to the stained oak desk next to his bed and set the papers down, "That's good for him, I'm sure he'll have an awesome career."

His roommate chewed on his bottom lip and his eyebrows raised as he nodded, "Yeah, man, I bet he will." 

The sound of Stiles stacking his books on his desk filled the awkward silence, along with the tapping of Danny's fingers against the keys of his laptop. It was flattering that Danny thought so highly of Stiles, but the idea of him being a pilot was utterly ridiculous. He was in his senior year of college and this was the last leg of his internship before he would be able to start interpreting and translating for large businesses.

Besides, after the rift was torn again the program was flooded with eager candidates that looked like Ken dolls and were probably just as ruthless as the Kaiju. They wouldn't have chosen him even if he did apply. He thought back to that first attack more often than he'd like. 

It had happened in September, right before his Japanese manuscript was due. The usually busy and up-beat campus had fallen silent when the announcement was made. Stiles remembered it like it was yesterday. He had been sitting behind Bridget Henderson and the perfume she was wearing made his eyes water all through class. It had been nice outside, a warm day, a completely normal blue skied day. But when Ms. Blake walked in clutching her bag against her chest with tears streaming down her face, no one expected to hear the words that slipped from between the poorly applied red lipstick ringing her mouth.

It felt like the world stopped for a minute. It had been five years. Five years of peace and celebration. The bones of fallen Kaiju had become part of the scenery and no one ever thought that using them as decoration would come back to haunt the entire population. It did, though.

They should have known better.

At least, that's what Stiles had always said.

The hush that fell between the seats of the lecture hall was enough to get his nerves in a bundle and he had strained to hear the hurried exchange of whispers between his professors. He still wondered if the rest of the class had been thinking what he was thinking.

Did another student hang themselves in the dorms or threaten to shoot a bunch of people? Was there a horrible scandal involving a student and a teacher or had a coach been caught persuading the team to juice again?

He went through every outlandish situation he could think of and not once had he thought of the possibility that this could be much bigger than the campus problems listed in his head. Their professor was nodding quickly and turned towards her but even he had to catch his breath when she finished her sentence. Ms. Blake's hands were shaking with exaggerated gestures and her mouth hung open, clinging to the last word as it came out loud and choked.

"Kaiju."

It was strange that no one moved. Not one person. Stiles stared down at his phone and ran his thumb across it absently. He didn't even really remember what his first thought was after the news broke. He just sat in his uncomfortable seat and looked at his phone like he was waiting for it to ring or for his alarm to go off so he could rationalize how incredibly ridiculous this all was.

But it didn't ring and instead of his alarm waking him up it was the sound of his nervous classmates that jarred him back to reality. The memory was blurry after that. He had called his Dad, that was one thing he remembered. Once the words 'Los Angeles' hit his ears he had ran out into the hall and almost broke down in tears when his father’s voice came through the other end of the phone.

Stiles winced as he thought back on it and thumbed through the multitude of notes he had collected on German grammar during last semester’s class. He remembered how potent the relief was. It cradled him when his back slid down the wall of the hallway and it calmed the burning in his chest when he assured his father that he was fine and told him how much he loved him and took back every snide remark he had made about his father retiring in San Diego instead of Malibu.

He had openly thanked God that day, it was the first time he ever had and it was probably the last as well, but he felt it was only appropriate.

He sat against that wall for close to an hour, his knees pulled to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He liked to think he wasn't scared back then but looking back on it now he knew he had been trembling. It was that girl from his Freshman Literature class that had shaken him up. He had just ended the conversation with his father when her scream echoed through the hallway. Stiles leaned forward and looked, his eyes trailing across the other on-lookers before finding her crouched on the tile floor with her head in her hands and her fingers fisted in long pretty blonde locks.

She screamed and wailed and sobbed for what seemed like hours and not once did Stiles think to go to her. It was surreal. It seemed like even if he had the courage to lift himself up and walk down the hall towards her that the room would only stretch further away. It didn't seem real enough for him to be a part of any of it.

He found out two days later that her mother had been killed in the Kaiju attack on Los Angeles. Apparently her parents had been celebrating their fourteen year anniversary at Staples Center and she had been lost in the crowd.

Something in him wanted to go to her and tell her that everything would be okay since that's what everyone did for him when his Mom died, but he didn't. He stayed inside and called his father twice a day until classes started back up. It had been a hard few days after the first attack but everything seemed to just fall back into place. Classes resumed and exams were still going to happen and the clock wasn't going to stop ticking even if creatures were digging their way out of nightmares and appearing in the sea.

He remembered the sound of that girl’s screams though, night after night. 

Stiles sighed loudly to break the empty silence and set his glasses on his desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as Danny peeked over the top of his lap top.

"Have you eaten? I was thinking about making that weird vegetable-wheat-organic pizza thing you insisted on buying." It wasn't like Danny to just let go of that topic so easily but Stiles was grateful and after an agonizing wave of memories and the long day he had suffered through, food sounded nothing less than amazing.

It would be useless to study and even more useless to reminisce on nightmares. All that mattered was his up-coming career and the changes he was about to face in life.

Goose bumps rose across his arms and he rubbed his palms against them, nodding over to Danny through a small forced smile, "Hell yeah, that sounds awesome, but it's not a thing Danny-boy, it's just healthier than ordering from Dominos."

Danny wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes, walking over to pre-heat the oven. Stiles grimaced as he peeled his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor, running his fingers through soft unruly brown locks. He eyed himself in the stand alone mirror bolted to the wall across from his bed. He had always been small in high school, lanky legs and thin arms wrapped in pale skin, but that was almost six years ago and since then he had developed into a strong young man. His features were sharper, the small upturned nose set between his eyes still gave him a boyish look but his body had filled out, lean muscles curling underneath the light freckles splattered across his arms and stomach.

It was strange to look at himself now and see someone so completely different than the smart-ass kid he had been in Arizona. Times had changed and even though he was still all wit and awkward sarcasm, Stiles had changed too.  


The pizza made the entire room smell like green peppers and mushrooms and the two boys salivated as they waited for the oven to ding. Stiles had slipped sweats on and was munching on carrots as Danny flipped through channels on the small flat screen hung on the wall next to the mirror. Deep brown eyes flickered over to Stiles and he raised a brow, pointing at the bag of orange vegetables.

"Have you always been a health-nut or do you have some secret vegan boyfriend whose making you eat like this because I've been your room mate for like three years and the first thing you showed me at orientation was the exact time it took to melt cheese on top of french fries in the microwave."

Stiles crunched down on a carrot and shot a stern glare towards his friend who was grinning back at him. It was the truth, he really hadn't been all that health-conscious before he moved to Rhode Island but after a couple years without lacrosse practice he had started to notice that working out and eating healthy actually made a difference in his life. 

"Oh, sorry mister fucking Hawaii over there, not everyone has the genes of a Greek god, okay, I kind of have to do these things to look mildly attractive," his facetious remark made Danny's eyes roll dramatically in his skull and he shook his head back and forth.

A headline flashed across the television and a pretty blonde woman in a tacky suit read the evening news, touching briefly on events across the globe such as another Kaiju cult that recently indulged in mass-suicide by drinking Kaiju Blue. Stiles winced when they showed the hotel room filled with rotting carcasses leaking noxious blue fluid and bit down on another carrot. Some people literally had nothing left to lose except their minds.

Honestly, Stiles couldn't blame them, aliens came from the sea instead of the sky, monsters rose from the depths of our own oceans and we built gigantic robots to bash their brains in. He figured to stay in this world one had to be as crazy as the place he called home and some people just couldn't wrap their heads around that concept. Danny mumbled something like 'freaks' under his breath and almost tripped over himself when the oven finally beeped to let them know their pizza was done.  


They muted the TV while they ate and shared stories of their day, Stiles telling Danny about how frustrating it was to try and describe a Krispy Kreme doughnut to an eighty-two year old woman and Danny telling Stiles about how tempted he was to spill his drink all over Laurie's beautiful twin brother. They poked fun at each other like best friends do and they laughed at ridiculous childish things as they dipped each slice of pizza into a cup full of almost expired ranch dressing.

"So, like, did you at least flirt with him or anything? I mean the guy's leaving to go battle giant rage beasts and you didn't offer him a parting gift?" Stiles laughed through the last few words and Danny choked on his Guinness, pounding his fist against his chest and wiping at his watering eyes as he tried not to laugh.

"No! Are you kidding me, Stiles? I mean, I know I'm smooth but he's going into the Jaeger program... I don't even compare to the people he's—"

"C'mon, Dan, don't cut yourself short," Stiles interjected, dipping a carrot into the ranch before setting it on top of his pizza and taking a bite. He blinked at his roommate when he arched a brow and shook his head, trying his best to ignore the disgusting food combination he had just witnessed. 

"I'm not cutting myself short! You know, I mean I would love to get into the program myself but I can't because of my lung condition but..." 

Stiles' jaw hardened and he set the last slice of pizza back down on the plate. His eyes shot to the floor and he picked at his nail beds when Danny heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Come on, Stilinski! You always talk about how you want to live a life filled with 'memorable instances,'" Danny made sure to curl his finger into air quotes around the words 'memorable instances' which made heat rush to Stiles' cheeks. "You’d be such an amazing pilot, just send in your application, you have nothing to lose, right?"

Stiles picked the piece of pizza back up and shoved it in his mouth, chewing and mumbling incoherent things about his complete lack of physical ability and skills necessary to be in the program. Their conversation had begun to revolve around this topic after a recruiter had set up a booth at the college about a month ago. It had been during the club fair for next fall and now that the rift had broken again, the new Marshall was looking for intellect as well as brutality and apparently Brown harbored many willing candidates.

"Just...no," Stiles snapped coldly, wrinkling his nose as he grabbed the dirty plates and walked them over to the sink, purposely turning the water on when Danny opened his mouth to protest. Soft amber eyes fell closed, irritation sliding across his face like sandpaper. 

The two ridiculously good-looking siblings manning the booth that day had singled the students out as they lazily slid through the crowds at the club fair. Of course Danny was the one they had seen, all tan muscle and distinct features. He 'ooh’d' and 'ah’d' at their presentation while Stiles rolled his eyes and absently cleaned the lenses of his glasses.

He shook his head when they asked him if he was interested even after Danny blurted that he was the top of his class in Modern World Languages and assured them that he would be a huge asset. Stiles had walked away after a polite but short 'no thank you.' Ever since then Danny wouldn't leave him alone about it, just like now as he walked into the kitchen and tossed his empty beer bottle into the small blue bin next to the fridge.

"You know," he said, placing a warm hand on Stiles' shoulder, "it wouldn't just be bad ass, it would be the most rewarding job you could have. You're a genius and you can translate and you can read people better than most psychics. I just wish you'd think about it." 

Stiles rolled his eyes and mumbled something about it being just as rewarding as it was dangerous, but that if it would make him shut up, he would think about it. Danny agreed and pinched Stiles' ear, earning an irritated yelp from his roommate who cursed under his breath and flicked water at him as he continued to angrily scrub the dishes. Tomorrow was going to be another long day and thinking about anything other than German adjectives wasn't in his best interest or frankly any of his interests right now.  


He had four months left until he graduated and those four months were going to set him on a track that would take him smoothly through the rest of his life. Danny was already snoring when he finished cleaning the kitchen and clicked off the TV. His life was so close to starting and as excited as he was it also made Stiles unbearably nervous. The anxiety bit at his throat every night and as he curled himself underneath the heavy sheets on his old creaky bed he tried to fill his mind with random facts - Diphthongs is a combination of two vowels that blend and are sounded together, the Japanese language has only 5 vowels, sanskrit is an indo-european language.

Dark lashes fluttered as heavy lids covered his eyes and he took in a deep breath through his nose, exhaling over gently parted lips. He focused on stagnant thoughts, boring misinterpretations of language barriers and then, like any 23 year old, what he was going to have for breakfast. It took a few minutes before he began to softly purr and drift off to sleep, but no matter how many random thoughts he crammed into his head there was always that lingering shadow in the back of his mind that asked him if tonight was the night the sirens would go off or if tonight was the night his phone would ring at his bed side.

No matter how normal Stiles tried to make his life, every night before he went to sleep he was reminded that there was a chance he might not wake up in the morning. 

\------------------------------

The sound of vibrations hummed against the wooden desk next to Stiles' bed and he peeled his tired eyes open to greet the day. Streaks of sunlight dripped through the cracks between his blinds and he lazily reached over, slapping his palm against his desk again and again until he reached the noisy device and tapped 'snooze' on the glass front of his phone. It was 8:01 a.m. and that meant it was time to go to the gym and then spend too many hours pointing out grammatical errors in ten-page papers for his History of Languages professor.

His eyes rested closed for a moment and he breathed in and out through his nose, chest rising and falling in the dimly lit room. Only a few more months of this and then he would be a free man, ready to start his life. He sat up and pawed at his eyes, a yawn spilling over the curve of his bottom lip as he stood and stumbled sleepily into the bathroom. 

The gym visit was short and sweet and included a five mile run and a dip in the pool. He tried to make it to the gym at least four or five times a week since, unlike his genetically gifted roommate, he had to keep himself up and running to be somewhat confident in his stature. A white shirt was draped over his torso and blue jeans hung loose on slender hips as he sat in an air conditioned office with stacks upon stacks of papers in front of him.

He squinted through his glasses and his nose crinkled as he re-read the same sentence a few times before shaking his head and huffing an irritated sigh. "And to think I wanted to teach at one point, this is absolutely maddening..." he was talking to the silence as he struggled to focus on the task at hand.

If there was anything that had changed during high school, it was his ability to stay on point. Almost every single one of his teachers in Arizona had commented on his complete lack of ability when it came to staying on track but as the years went on Stiles calmed down and his so-called ADHD faded into something more along the lines of I-don't-give-a-shit-I'm-bored syndrome. 

His eyes wandered around the office and he dangled the pen resting between his fingers against his mouth which he absently bit at. His glasses slid down to the tip of his nose and he leaned back, kicking his foot up on the desk. It wasn't even noon and he already wanted something else to do. Anything else to do. He rolled the pen between his teeth and cracked his knuckles. It had to take years of skill and practice to read literally thousands of papers about the same topic without trying to kill yourself and this internship had definitely gave him the opportunity to gain a new level of respect for his teachers.

The clock ticked again and again and his eyes continued to be absorbed in everything besides the thirty-something papers he had left to grade. After a few painful minutes he forced himself to grab the next stapled bundle and started reading through it. He kicked his foot across his other leg and leaned back in the chair, setting the paper against his thigh and took the red pen from his lips to jot down a few critiques here and there. The sound of footsteps outside the door jolted him from his casually lounged position and Stiles adjusted his glasses and straightened his back, setting the paper down on the desk and leaning over it to look as professional as he could before Ms. Blake walked in.

"I'm going to lunch, Stiles," she smiled softly and gestured to the small stack of graded essays. "You're doing great! If you want a break or anything to go grab something to eat, feel free."

His 'thank you' was rushed and he stumbled on one foot around the edge of the desk before walking out the door and back into the humid summer air. It would be a lie if he said he was thankful for the heat but it was better than being trapped by four poorly decorated office walls. 

It was Tuesday and that always meant tacos. So, Stiles crossed his fingers and shoved the key into the ignition of his pre-apocalyptic vehicle and hoped the engine responded. "Please, please, please, c'mon baby just, yes, yes, oh thank fucking Christ-"

The beast roared to life and Stiles let his head lean back against the old fabric of his thirty-something year old Jeep. The paint was fading and it needed constant care, but his mother had always said that it would be his when he got his license. She never got to see him drive it so now getting rid of the hunk of metal wasn't an option for him in any way, shape, or form. 

The taco shop was off campus and was a popular hangout for the college kids who wanted cheap good food. He ordered fajita tacos and a side of rice and beans just like every other Tuesday and he ate at a small booth by himself. It was strange to think of all that happened, to think back on his mother’s death, which made his stomach turn uncomfortably, and to think about his relatively normal years in high school.

He had been so good at ignoring anything that didn't directly affect his life, so much that the death around the globe didn't seem to faze him. It shamed him now to know that he had preferred it that way.

Stiles bit down on his taco and chewed slowly as he watched one of the televisions placed in the corner of the small shop. Images flashed of the damage from last week’s Kaiju attack on Hawaii; a category three had made its way to their shores and due to its small size hadn't caused much of a problem. Chromebuster had taken it down, a senior Jaeger with seasoned pilots and a very long list of recent kills.

However, the next report made Stiles stop chewing and straighten his back as he stared intently at the screen. A hush fell over the small restraint and a customer in line asked politely if they could turn up the volume. The bus-boy did so with shaky hands.  


A category six.

More and more of them had been popping up after the rift re-opened months ago but footage of them was hardly released. It was massive and looked down at the new and improved Striker Eureka in the middle of the ocean like the Jaeger was nothing more than an action-figure. It wasn't a quality recording, that was obvious, but its multiple sets of distinct blue eyes and large curved spikes lining its hide were enough to make Stiles blink his eyes away. The team that took that beast down must have kissed the ground when they got out of their Jaegers alive.

Stiles lifted another spoon full of rice to his mouth but was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone on the table. RESTRICTED flashed across the screen and he arched a brow as he picked it up and studied the word like it was something foreign. For one, no one but Danny or his Dad called him, that's what texting was for, and two, no one with a restricted number would have any reason to call him. Unless it was the school in which case he assumed Ms. Blake would have just texted.

Stiles' mouth wiggled around and he sighed, sliding the little bar to the left and placing it to his ear, "This is Stiles." The words were soft and airy in the quiet room and he stood to walk outside towards his car.

"Is this Stiles Stilinski?" the voice on the other end was warm and rough and it coaxed a small smile to tug at the ends of Stiles' mouth.

"Yes," he replied quickly, shoving his wallet in his mouth as he dug in the pockets of his jeans for his keys.

"Good. I've looked over your application and I'm interested in meeting you, you have time in the next couple days?" The man on the other end was relaxed and confident, his smile prevalent through the small speaker.

Stiles narrowed his eyes and finally opened the door of his car, shaking his head back and forth as he mentally shuffled through all of the different internships he had applied for back in Spring. The only one that hadn't been full was the summer program that the English and Language departments had thrown together, unless he missed one. "Uhm, well, I'm sorry but I'm already involved in a private internship through my school but thank—"

"This is Raleigh Becket, I should have clarified earlier." 

Stiles' pupils dilated and his heart slammed against his rib cage. His throat went dry and he dropped his wallet onto the floor of his Jeep, squeezing his left hand into a fist over and over again to try and calm the shaking.

"I'm calling on behalf of the application you submitted for the Jaeger program, I'm interested in having you on the team and I'd like to meet with you soon, as soon as you can," Raleigh paused and Stiles hoped he couldn't hear his labored breathing and was thankful he couldn't see the sweat now sliding down his temple.

He bit down on his lip, hard, hard enough to fill his mouth with the taste of copper.

"Are you—" the pilot was frantically cut off.

"Yes, yeah, I'm here, sorry... I," Stiles caught his breath and tried to regain his composure, arching his shoulder up to hold his phone against his ear so he could wipe his sweaty palms against his jeans.

He knew who did this. Instantly. It was Danny and that alone made his blood boil.

He felt betrayed and blind-sided. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? This wasn't just some random Jaeger pilot calling to interview him, this was the man who saved the planet from a hostile alien race.

Granted, that alien race had risen again, but none-the-less this was Raleigh Becket, not entertaining a meeting with him seemed completely disrespectful. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and fisted his hands in his hair. All the while the other end of the phone sat quiet.

"I... yeah. Okay. Let's meet on Thursday then if that-"

"Works perfect," Raleigh was as smooth as ever and chuckled lightly into the phone. It was apparent that he was used to this kind of reaction when calling people, especially people who literally had no idea and no warning that they would ever be speaking to him. "I'll meet you in the Library at two o'clock," his voice was light and friendly and it threw Stiles for a loop as he continued to try and calm himself down.

"A-at Brown? The library at Brown?" Stiles stammered and cleared his rapidly drying throat.

The pilot laughed, all rasp and deep heat, "Yes, Mr. Stilinski. The library at Brown. I'll see you then, man." 

The phone clicked and after a few seconds dull silence was all that greeted him. Stiles sat in the driver’s seat with the phone pressed loosely to his ear, his eyes raking across the faded fabric that lined his steering wheel. His hands were shaking and his leg twitched uncomfortably. He took in a deep breath and tried to still the trembling in his chest when he exhaled, gripping his keys tightly between his fingers as he set the thin phone into the cup holder.

This will all get resolved on Thursday. He nodded to himself and repeated it out loud. "Thursday," he whispered, twisting the key in the ignition.

The Jeep rumbled but sputtered out. Stiles twisted the key again, his lips pursed into a thin line, only to receive the same response. His fists slammed against the steering wheel and his head fell back against the seat, eyes turned up to the roof of the car.  


"Thursday, Thursday, Thursday," he continued to mutter under his breath and nodded to himself again, taking in breath after breath. Anxiety burned at his throat and he chewed nervously on his bottom lip, sliding the key into the ignition and turning it again. Soft brown eyes closed and relief washed over him as the vehicle growled and came to life. 

He drove back to campus in silence. No radio. Nothing. He drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel in an attempt to hide the tremors running up and down his arms. The feeling was strange, like it was something scripted, a prank, a joke, something so outlandish that it couldn't possibly be real. A frantic laugh was pushed out of his mouth as Stiles pulled into the student parking next to the dorms and he nervously cleaned the lenses of his glasses with his shirt. It had to be a joke.

He repeated that to himself, chanted it over and over again in his head as he walked back through the lobby to the office where the rest of his day would be spent. Ms. Blake was back and waved to him as he ducked into the room and sat down in the chair. The red pen was spun between his fingers and he wiggled his nose, taking in a deep breath as his eyes descended back on the stack of essays. His stomach was still in knots and his throat was still dry. It had to be a joke. He swallowed and jerked his head up when someone knocked at the door.

Ms. Blake was watching him carefully and tilted her head to the side, "Stiles, are you alright? You're really flushed, you look a bit... shaken," she was careful with her words and arched a brow at his overzealous nodding and exaggerated scoff. 

"Oh, yeah! I'm totally fine, totally a-okay, no need to worry about me. Just gonna grade these and then finish these and not freak out about anything," he shot a toothy smile to the professor whose mouth was turned down and expression was more concerned than confused.

She nodded slowly and backed up, saying nothing as she took her leave back into the lobby.

He took in another deep breath and gripped the pen tightly in his hand. It's either a joke or everything would be resolved on Thursday, but no matter, come Friday Stiles was going to go on with his life. The life he had meticulously planned for himself since senior year in high school. He nodded to himself again and picked up the next essay and dove into it with alert caramel eyes, taking his mind to any other place besides the conversation he just had in front of his favorite taco shop. 

Stiles lost himself in the pool of Times New Roman and Verdana and when he finished a wave of nerves washed over him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He handed the stack of completed papers back to his professor who smiled and dismissed him for the day. Danny was probably already back at their room and if there was one person that Stiles could go a couple weeks without looking at, it was him.

The anger swelled again and he gritted his teeth as he walked back across campus. This wasn't just some dumb club or some reality TV show. It wasn't as if he had covered his bathroom in post-it notes or glued googly eyes to everything in the fridge.

This was his life.

He paused when he looked at the stairs, thumbs pressed into the front pockets of his jeans. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. Someone in his yoga class told him to fall into that pattern to clear negative energy but in this case he didn't quite think a little deep breathing was going to stop the anxiety currently bubbling inside him. He took his time walking up to their room and when he finally stopped he fished for his keys and put his hand on the doorknob. 

His eyes closed, "I'm going to walk in and he's going to laugh and yell 'April fools' and then I'm going to punch him in the mouth because it's July and we'll laugh and I'll yell at him and everything will be fine," he whispered under his breath. "Yes, everything is going to be fine."

He opened the door quickly and walked in, setting his keys on the counter next to the sink. Danny was lounged across the small couch with his eyes glued to the television. Stiles stood there for a moment, his hands shaking and lips pursed into a tight thin line. Get up. He cleared his throat. Get up and start laughing.

Danny tilted his head back and smiled, "Hey man, how was grading a million horribly executed essays?"

Stiles didn't say anything. He stood in the middle of the room frozen and waited for the big sigh of relief.

His roommate quirked his mouth into another smile and arched a brow, "Uhm, so...?"

He still said nothing while long bony fingers clenched and un-clenched at his sides. It took a moment for him to calm down, for it to register that maybe the normalcy of this conversation meant that he wasn't the one who submitted his application. Maybe it was Laurie or one of his teachers. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding. Maybe he was going to wake up and be in his bed wondering what would bring on a dream like this.

"Dude, you're kind of scaring me, can you talk or move or-"

"Raleigh Becket called me today," Stiles blurted, moving to set his glasses down on his desk.

The color drained from Danny’s face and he could tell by the way his friends mouth dropped open and his eyes darted straight to his feet that he had not been wrong about who it was that submitted his application.

Stiles teeth grinded together and he closed his eyes, waiting for some kind of response. Danny looked at the floor and played with the fabric of his gym shorts.

"Did you have anything to do with this, Danny?" Stiles asked, voice crisp and direct.

It was quiet for a minute and Danny took in a sharp breath, holding his hands up in mock surrender, "I- I honestly didn't think they would call you since you didn't submit yourself but, I mean, Stiles! This is fucking awesome! Raleigh called you himself? That's just—"

Stiles took two steps forward before his fist slammed into the left side of Danny’s face. His roommate stumbled backwards and touched his fingertips to the now swollen place on his jaw.

Stiles winced and shook his hand back and forth. "Jesus, what the fuck are you made of? It's like hitting a god damn cinder block," he mumbled, huffing an angry sigh and pacing back and forth in the room.

Danny didn't retaliate. He didn't say anything, he just sat back down on the couch and rubbed the sore area of his face. Stiles paced for a few minutes, mumbling about his hand and how stupid Danny was until finally he stopped.

"This is my life, Danny. My life. It wasn't your right or your place to go out and submit my application, my transcripts; I mean how did you even get my information? Seriously?"

He didn't expect to be this calm but the pain from punching someone who felt like they might be made out of concrete seemed to satiate his need for some kind of release. Danny looked to him and shrugged, taking his hand off his face as he gestured to Stiles' laptop.

"You left your shit open the day of the fair because you sent in an online order for that stupid life-sized light saber thing you saw all the geeks running around with next to the cosplay booth so I just jotted it down. I bribed the admissions guy for a copy of your transcripts."

Heat filled Stiles' cheeks and he set his hands on his hips. "Watch your mouth, Star Wars is not stupid and I'm ashamed to hear you say that, Danny, really I'm a little hurt that you- okay! Way off subject! So you just thought, 'hey, I'll fuck with my best friends life for no apparent reason because I can't get into the Jaeger program myself hardy fucking har har?!' You literally went against everything I've said and wanted and took a choice away from me and—"

"Just tell them no then! Go ahead and waste the opportunity of a life-time and go be a translator and live a mundane, mediocre life in some other state pretending like the things that are happening in the world aren't actually happening. Go ahead, Stiles. Be a coward."

He suddenly felt the need to do more than just punch Danny in the face again but he didn't, he just stood there shaking with his bottom lip pinched painfully between his teeth. "I'm not a coward because I don't want to save the world, Danny," his voice was low and he shook his head back and forth. "I just don't want this and I expected you to respect that rather than jumping through hoops to try and live vicariously through me!" 

They stared at each other for a while, Danny still seated on the couch and Stiles standing next to his bed with his hands shoved in his pockets and his body rocking back and forth on his heels. Both of them had said things to hurt the other. To prove a point. But right now taking what each other said into consideration wasn't on the table and Stiles audibly sighed and sat down on his bed, lazily pulling his shirt up and over his head.

"I'll take care of this on Thursday since apparently he's coming to talk to me," he muttered as he looked across to Danny who was trying to subdue the childish smile creeping across his mouth.

"What?" Stiles hissed, fumbling angrily with his socks.

"It's just really cool," Danny squeaked, his lips finally spreading into a toothy smile. "Whether you like it or not you have to admit that the fact that Becket is coming out here just to see you means you're kind of meant to do this."

Stiles stared out the window, straining to focus on something else besides the words sliding over Danny’s lips. He made a point, a point that Stiles had tried again and again to dissect and dismember. 

"No, he's coming here because I couldn't be disrespectful and decline his invitation to meet seeing as he plunged a giant fucking robot into the ocean and got sucked into another dimension to save the world. Kind of hard to say no to him," his words were cold and angry and Danny rolled his eyes.

It wasn't worth the time to fight about it anymore, to argue their opposing opinions and bash heads again and again. Stiles would deal with this as politely and as quickly as he could and that was that.

The night went on casually, with Danny trying his best to keep his mouth shut and with Stiles trying his best to concentrate on his Japanese literature without thinking about the very good point Danny had made. Why did they want him? What about him was so intriguing that they sent their best to greet him? He was just some college kid from Arizona with a good GPA and a witty mouth. Nothing about him was draped in glory and nothing about him said 'American hero.'

As he laid his head down against the pillow and closed his eyes he heard a quiet 'I'm sorry' from across the room.

Danny’s back was facing him and instead of saying anything back Stiles threw a closed half-empty water bottle at him and they both chuckled in the darkness. He knew as he closed his eyes that he wasn't cut out for this and the last thing he thought of before he drifted off to sleep was how exactly he was supposed to say that to the man who saved humanity.

\------------------------------


	2. Chapter Two

"Stiles, seriously, you look fine. You've changed nine times now, I don't think he's going to care about your outfit." 

Danny rolled his eyes when Stiles shot him an irritated glare and continued to fish through his closet. T-shirts and flannels littered the room accompanied by numerous pairs of pants and multiple pairs of Vans. His nerves were getting the best of him and his anxiety had been climbing for the past two days. It was one thirty in the afternoon on Thursday and in a half an hour Stiles would be face to face with an international war hero. He huffed and puffed about how ridiculous he was going to look and tore the shirt he was wearing off to replace it with a long sleeve black shirt. He fidgeted and fumbled with the buttons before he smoothed it out over dark jeans. 

"You know, Danny, I'm about to meet the man that nuked an alien race, okay? I at least want to look slightly presentable when I tell him I don't want to pilot for him." He looked at himself in the mirror and tugged at his hardly-styled hair before pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Between the anger still aimed at Danny and the anxiety swelling in his gut he was having a hard time deciphering what exactly he was feeling and that made him extremely uncomfortable. 

"Wear your docs," Danny piped from the other end of the room, "the little ankle ones that you got from your Dad last Christmas." Stiles arched a brow and his mouth quirked to the side before he ducked into his closet and pulled out the 8-eyelet boots and nodded over his shoulder to his friend who looked as calm as could be. The smug smile he had sported all day made Stiles want to punch him again but the ache in his hand told him that it probably wasn't the smartest idea. He slid the boots on and tied them slowly, glancing up at the clock above the TV. One forty-two. The breath in his throat caught and came out low and shaky. 

Stiles had gone over everything he was going to say in his head, from the apology to the over-whelming expression of gratitude. He would shake his hand and tell him that it was all a huge misunderstanding and he was so sorry for the inconvenience. He would thank him for the opportunity and let him know that it just wasn't for him and he knew that there was another candidate who would be honored to pilot a Jaeger. 

It would be horrible and embarrassing and completely ridiculous but it would also be quick and as painless as he could possibly make it. He would walk out and get back on the track he was supposed to be on, the one where he translated for multi-billion dollar companies and brought in enough money to live comfortably in Colorado or Tennessee. It would all be resolved and he would put this awkward situation behind him. 

"You alright?" Danny‘s voice pulled him out of his head and he jerked his chin to the side and nodded, "Oh, yeah, yeah I'm good just... trying to figure out how I'm going to do this," his words were faint and all-too honest. He saw Danny look away and fiddle with his fingers and Stiles turned his gaze back to his reflection. He reached up and poked gingerly at one of the more prominent freckles next to his mouth, an audible sigh filling the silent room. 

"I should probably walk over there," he said softly, grabbing his phone and keys from his desk. 

His ears were ringing and his eyes settled on Danny who smiled shyly at him and nodded, "Good luck, man." Luck wasn't what he needed at this point, right now he needed courage and something to stop the shaking in his hands. 

The walk across campus was slow and tolling, his boots scuffing across the ground as he went. He passed a couple other students and focused on the sound of their foot steps instead of the sound of his heart beat and took in a deep breath when the Rockafeller Library materialized before him. Stiles looked at the doors and saw his reflection look back at him. It was one fifty-seven and as he opened the door he felt his insides clench and twist, his heart skipped and sputtered and his mind was still trying to put together something adequate to say. 

It was dimly lit inside, like it always was, and books lined the shelves on every wall. A few desks with computers were set up along the isle and the large space was completely empty except for three figures seated at the cherry wood tables at the end of the room. Stiles walked forward with his head held high and forced himself to swallow the lump of uneasiness growing in his throat. His boots echoed against the smothering quiet and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as the scene he had been preparing himself for came into clear view. 

Two men in sharp black suits stood at the end of the table and stepped aside when Stiles approached. His mind was shaking just as badly as his body and his glasses were sliding to the tip of his nose as his fingertips brushed against the polished table top, tapping gently, "Hello." It was all he could manage to say as he looked down to the man sitting at the table. A beaten up bomber jacket was slung over his shoulders and his eyes were bright and much too comfortable as they flicked up to Stiles. A warm, inviting smile creased across Raleigh‘s face and he stood, reaching out to shake Stiles' hand. 

"It's nice to meet you, Stiles," his voice was rough and deep but it made Stiles feel much more at ease to be around someone who was as down to earth as Raleigh seemed to be. Amber eyes watched the pilot carefully and Stiles tried his best to offer up a smile and nod. 

"Yeah, it's an honor to meet you," he was surprised that his voice carried any kind of strength but it did and he sat down across from Becket and folded his hands on the table to keep from fidgeting. Raleigh smiled with his eyes and exuded a natural kindness that made Stiles feel even worse about not telling him on the phone that he wasn't interested in the program. 

A few minutes went by before Raleigh cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, licking lazily across his lips, "So, you wanna be a pilot?" the words were blunt and a chill ran up Stiles' spine as the silence swallowed them whole. Every single rehearsed statement he had lined up went right out the window and he was left stringing together words that didn't even make sense or explain the situation in the slightest. His mind was just throwing out a slurry of 'I'm sorry' and 'this is all a big mistake' but making some kind of excuse like the ones currently registering as valid in his head would only come across as completely asinine.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip and tried his best not to look taken a back, "Well, you see, I actually... My uh, my room mate actually did this thing and- wow. I am... this is not even going to come out right but-"

"Relax, man. I'm not going to shoot you," Raleigh arched a brow and rolled his eyes playfully, waving a finger for Stiles to continue. Blood rushed to fill his cheeks and Stiles swallowed, unfolding his hands to drum his fingers against the top of the table. "My room mate submitted my application. I wasn't interested in being a pilot and I feel like a complete idiot right now," his words were rushed and he stared at the table for a long moment before peeking up at the man across from him whose expression had hardly wavered. An endearing smirk still cradled his mouth and his eyebrows were still raised as he nodded his head and waved his finger again as if Stiles had more to say. 

He blinked a few times, reached up to take his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm really sorry. I didn't know what to say and I just choked I guess, I didn't know how to say no and I'm honored, really I am, it's just..." his words failed and faded out into the air. The library smelled like old books and printer ink and it took his mind off the excruciating situation he had currently found himself in. 

Confidence seeped out of Raleigh like it was some kind of pheromone and Stiles found himself completely baffled at how unresponsive he was to such weak excuses. The ringing in his ears was deafening and he kept blinking away from Raleighs unmoving stare, "You're a World Language major, yeah?" the question was more of a statement and Stiles nodded dumbly before the pilot continued, "and you lost your mom a while ago. High school right?" 

Stiles visibly stiffened and his eyes narrowed dangerously. That wasn't something he had wanted or even slightly prepared himself to discuss and the anger pressing into his expression made Becket tilt his head to the side and nod slowly. 

"Yeah. Yeah, she died when I was fifteen and I don't really know exactly what that has to do with any of this seeing as I'm formally _declining_ your offer," Stiles hissed and picked his glasses back off the table to clean them nervously with the tail of his shirt. His heart was beating fast and he could feel waves of heat soaking through to his bones as he tried to calm himself down. Him and his own father didn't discuss the passing of his mother, he wasn't going to sit here and let someone else try to get into his head about it. Not even the man who saved the planet. 

"No need to get routey, Stilinski, I was just mentioning a few things I saw in the paper work," Becket was calm and patient and he blinked a few times as Stiles looked away and stared off at a book shelf a couple feet away.

"Are we done here or are you going to keep asking me questions even though I literally just told you I'm declining your offer?" Stiles was angry. Angry from the trickle of memories filling up his head and angry from the overwhelming feeling of complete intrusion on his personal life. His mother‘s death had nothing to do with his abilities and she most certainly had no place in this conversation. The smile that Raleigh sported made him even more on edge and Stiles rolled his eyes and started chewing on one of his nails. 

"You have an amazing skill set and your transcripts are untouchable by many of the other candidates. We aren't just looking for brute strength anymore, we're looking for intelligence. I'd like you to re-think your decision."

Stiles raised his brows and gritted his teeth, "Well I'd like you to never bring up my mother again and tell me exactly what my amazing skill set could be used for while piloting a giant fucking robot?" His words were snide and he set his glasses back on his nose and wiggled it, earning a chuckle from the man sitting across from him. 

"Jaeger," he corrected firmly, "and we can use you for programming and deciphering language recognition when it comes to the Kaiju. You're minor was Ancient Languages so we figure you can put that to use." 

Stiles didn't want to be intrigued or to be interested in the slightest but something in his gut was wrenching forward and he bit back down on the insides of his cheeks to keep himself at bay. "You want me to analyze the unidentifiable screeching and howling of the alien race we're trying to exterminate...? That's my use? You're serious?!" 

When he laughed Raleighs handlers looked over their shoulders before turning back towards the front of the library. Becket nodded and shrugged his shoulders, moving forward to set his elbows on the table, "Yes, actually," he started, looking over to Stiles, "You'll pilot a Jaeger and you'll research the Kaiju in regards to their vocals, try to figure out if they have a way of communicating that isn't just telepathic." Stiles blinked down and fidgeted under the table, his fingers pinching at each other nervously.

His life had suddenly come to a screeching halt and everything he had worked for became vital in a way he had never even considered. This wasn't his plan, this wasn't what he was supposed to do with his life or what he even remotely wanted to do with his life. He was a simple young man with a life ahead of him that most people would dream of, a life of normalcy and comfort. It was something people strived for these days and he was only four months away from obtaining it. 

Raleigh kept his eyes on Stiles as he mentally fought with himself before a few minutes went by and he tapped his finger on the table, snatching Stiles' attention back where he needed it, "You have the chance to use your skills to save humanity. The chance to do something that a hundred thousand other candidates are going to be denied. We all have fear," Raleigh paused when Stiles looked up at him and his mouth parted slightly, "and we all have regrets and weaknesses. But we also have the ability to become greater than that fear, that weakness."

Stiles swallowed and shook his head to keep himself from blurting out a bunch of stupid excuses and even more apologies, "I just..." He looked down at the table and winced when he saw a drop of blood pooling around his cuticle from the nervous picking. Raleigh nodded and gave a heavy sigh before he waved to the two men and stood. He watched Stiles carefully, from the blush spread across his cheeks and nose to the repeated tap of his boot against the floor. "If you don't think you're cut out for it then there's nothing I can do to convince you. I'm not looking for pilots who can't even see their own worth," Becket gave Stiles a brief smile and shrugged his shoulders before turning his back to walk towards the glass doors at the other end of the library.

Stiles‘ heart was beating so hard in his chest that it was almost painful and his lungs were constricted so tight that every breath seemed rushed and short. His thoughts were fighting viciously with each other and he didn't know how to say anything. He didn't know how to say 'okay' or 'you're right' or 'I'm scared.' He just sat there starring down at his blurred reflection in the overly polished wooden table. He could hear their footsteps clicking across the tile and before he had a chance to re-think the words dancing on the tip of his tongue his voice had broken the silence. 

"I'm not a coward," he called, standing and pacing towards Raleigh who had stopped and glanced over his shoulder. The pilot grinned and nodded, looking to Stiles who was biting down on his bottom lip once again. His fingers trembled but he pulled them in and fisted his hands at his sides, "I'll do it. I accept." The words escaped him before he could reel them back in and his stomach knotted and clenched. He didn't know whether it was immediate regret or excitement that washed over him, but something was pulling and tugging at his emotions.

Raleigh's hand fell across Stiles' shoulder and he gripped softly, strong eyes locking on to his own. He probably looked like a deer caught in the glow of headlights, like a scared animal waiting to go to slaughter but he straightened his back and tried to feign as much strength as he could. 

"This is something you'll never forget, something a lot of people will never forget," Becket paused and removed his hand when Stiles shoved his thumbs in the front pocket of his jeans, "Your flight leaves Sunday morning, just tell them at check-in who you are and you'll be escorted through. Get some sleep on the plane because you'll start training as soon as you get to Shatterdome." Stiles didn't know if Raleigh had been expecting him to say yes in the end or if he was just being short because he had somewhere to be, but all he did was nod and let a faint 'thank you' slip from between his lips.

It didn't register what exactly Becket had said until they were opening the doors and walking down the steps. 

"W-wait, wait, Shatterdome? Hong Kong, you're sending me- I'm going to _Hong Kong_ to train?!" Stiles tried to keep his breathing even and the shocked expression on his face at bay but Raleigh nodded and reached out to shake Stiles' hand again, "Yeah, Hong Kong. You'll be with the big guns. I wanted you stationed with Mako and I so we could coach you." His cheeks flushed again and Stiles tried to nod his head and stammered out an 'okay' and another 'thank you' as Raleigh laughed lightly and pushed Stiles' shoulder with his palm. 

"Don't worry, man. You'll be fine. I'll see you next week," steel blue eyes turned away from him and Stiles stood in front of the library with his eyes darting over the faded 'gipsy danger' logo on the back of Raleighs jacket. The pilot climbed into a sleek black car and disappeared down the road and off campus. 

Stiles hadn't realized how badly he was shaking until he walked quickly back to Morriss Hall and leaned against a shady wall. Adrenaline coursed through him and it felt like static every time he brushed against anything. They could have sent him to New York, Los Angeles, Hawaii, to the base in Montreal or Portland but instead he was about to be shipped off the China where Striker Eureka and Gipsy Danger's new models had been re-designed and where the best pilots around the world had been stationed. He had never heard of some entry-level student going off to train in Hong Kong. 

"What the fuck..." the words were whispered and he set his hands on his thighs, hanging his head low as he tried to catch his breath. He moved up and smoothed his hand over his mouth, letting it fall back to his side. This was a disaster. A horrible, tragic disaster that he did not want to deal with. Everything he had worked for, all the years spent busting his ass in college all led up to this irrational decision he had made based on two insignificant words that kept flashing in his mind. What if. The entire time Raliegh spoke that was all he could hear, all he could see, and in the end it was that tiny phrase that had pushed him far enough to completely eradicate every plan he had made for himself. Stiles took in a deep breath and looked up to strain his eyes against the rays beaming down from the sun. In three days his entire life would change forever and in three days he would take a risk that just hours before had been unacceptable. He leaned off the wall and pulled his phone out of his pocket, looking away from the blinding light to the glass screen. He scrolled slowly through his contacts before he stopped and ran his thumb across the screen. DAD was spelled out in large letters and a number was set below it next to an e-mail and a picture of the two of them from Thanksgiving. 

He felt his eyes fill with tears but bit back the urge to let them fall and lifted the phone to his ear. It rang a few times before his fathers low voice sounded through the speaker. It was a dull 'hello' and Stiles choked when he tried to return the greeting. He explained everything, the situation with Danny, the phone call and the meeting. His voice shook when he told his father he had accepted and was relieved when the retired sheriff did nothing but praise and support him. They talked and laughed for what seemed like an hour but as the conversation winded down he heard the breath catch from other end of the phone and Stiles reached up to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"You're still coming out to see your old man for Christmas, right?" Stiles didn't want his father to hear the quiet sob caught in his throat and he let the phone drop, biting down on his lip and taking in a shaken gulp of air, "Yeah, Dad, of course. Of course I'm still coming home for Christmas..." Both of them knew they were fighting back tears but neither of them were going to admit it so they exchanged heart felt 'I love yous' and his father made him promise that he would call as much as he could. "I'm so proud of you," his father breathed out and Stiles closed his eyes and smiled softly before mumbling a quick 'talk to you later'. 

He could only imagine what his father was going through. His only son had just informed him that he was going off to war and not just as some translation specialist but as a Jaeger pilot and in the end everyone knew what happened to most of the pilots over-time. Some survive and go on to continue the legacy, but most are lost in battle with the Kaiju. A chill ran up his spine and he cleared the scratchy dryness from his throat. But what if he was one of the pilots who survived, what if he made a difference, what if this was his chance to become something greater than he had ever thought imaginable. It had hurt more than he thought it would to hear his father sound so heart-broken when he asked if he would be home for Christmas because both of them knew that right now the answer wasn't on the table. 

The trek up the stairs and back to his room was slow and filled with thoughts about what was going to happen, where he was going to go and everything he was going to learn. How utterly confused he still was about how easy it was for him to throw his future off a cliff and into the unknown was also a huge part of what was playing on his mind. The idea still made him exceedingly uncomfortable but there was nothing he could do now and as much as he wanted to convince himself he would take it all back based on principal, realistically the excitement settled in his bones was far too strong for him to think of going back. Danny was grabbing a cold bottle of water out of the fridge when Stiles opened the door and he narrowed his eyes when he looked a little closer at his room mate.

"I figured it'd be hard but... are you okay? You look like you were crying," Danny‘s voice was soft and he took a step forward when Stiles aggressively batted at his eyes and took off his glasses. He walked passed Danny and over to the mirror where he groaned and rolled his eyes at the sight of his puffy optics and flushed blotchy cheeks.

"Well, I was a little bit," Stiles wasn't going to lie to his best friend and he took in a deep breath, arching a brow, "I cried when I called my Dad and explained everything to him." 

The confusion on Danny‘s face subsided when a smile tugged at the corners of Stiles' mouth and he laughed with his whole body, pointing a finger and walking forward, "I knew it! I told you! God, man, are you serious? You're going?!" 

Stiles nodded and laughed when Danny threw his arms around him and pulled him into a warm hug. The night went on with Danny sticking his tongue out at Stiles and yelling over and over again about how amazing everything would be and how he had to keep in touch no matter what. Stiles rolled his eyes so much that they were sore and tired. They drank a couple cheap beers and Danny rambled about anything that had to do with Jaegers or China and even insisted on throwing a going-away party for him. Stiles vehemently argued against it but in the end he knew that it was inevitable. As the two turned off the lights and Stiles crawled into his bed he stared up at the ceiling and wondered about what life now had in store for him. For the last six or seven years he had just known exactly what steps he would take, he knew exactly where he would go, what he would do.

Now there was a void of darkness where his future used to be and he had to muster up the courage to walk towards it with his head held high. 

\-----------------------------

The next couple days had gone by fast, in a blur of frantic packing and meticulous planning. Stiles looked out the window of the plane and mouthed the words to the song playing through the speakers in his head phones. The going-away party that Danny put together was pleasant and heart felt. Laurie, her brother, some of his classmates and a few of their friends got together and hopped around the bars outside of campus. They talked loudly and laughed until they cried, Laurie kissed Stiles on the mouth before the night ended and even though he didn't swing in her direction, he kissed her back. He closed his eyes and turned up the music to try and drown out the all-too fresh memory of Danny clinging to him and crying into his shoulder about how he would keep in touch and promised to write long hand-written letters because no one did that shit anymore and he wanted Stiles to know how much his friendship meant. Stiles cried too and they stood in their dorm for a long time just laughing and crying as they made promises to each other that they both know might not be kept. 

A flight attendant tapped him gently on the shoulder and he pulled one of the headphones out of his ear, "Sir, we'll be landing shortly, is there anything you needed? Would you like another drink?" 

He shook his head and offered a smile, "No, thank you," Stiles murmured and handed her the empty glass from the cup holder next to him. The clouds were dark gray and spread out evenly across the night sky. He hadn't expected to be flying first class nor to be escorted through the airport by the same two men in suits that he had seen back in the library with Raleigh. He tried to ask them their names but they simply shuffled him along and sat in the back of the plane with magazines in their laps. Stiles didn't push them for any information and instead focused on his ridiculous anxiety and tried to find ways to keep himself calm. Bastille was working at the moment and he fell right back into mouthing the words as the stewardess walked away and he slid the headphone back into his ear. 

He didn't know what to expect. His mind wandered from one place to another as he thought back on his last few hours in Rhode Island. Stiles had told his teachers about his sudden change of heart and received nothing but encouragement from each of them but it still didn't make him feel completely comfortable with the reckless decision he had made. His eyes flicked up to the over-head where the seat belt sign flashed on and he wrapped his head phones around the thin MP3 player laying on his thigh. A scratchy voice came across the speaker asking that the passengers fasten their seat belts and prepare for their descent into Hong Kong. 

It had been a sixteen hour flight and as nervous as he was, Stiles was itching to get his feet on the ground. Amber eyes peered out the window as they cut through the clouds and his breath caught in the back of his throat when the city lights began to blink awake out of the darkness. Tall sky scrapers reached towards the moon and soon the entire city came into view, fluorescent lights lined buildings and he could see the tiny flicker of headlights from crowded streets and highways. 

His skin prickled into goose bumps as his eyes trailed across the large white bones jutting out of the street and between buildings where a Kaiju had fallen years ago. They were massive and ominous and they reminded him that this was war- war against creatures bred by a race of beings that the world knew nothing about, and they were ruthless. The runway came into view and his body jolted slightly when the tires hit the asphalt. 

Stiles inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth again and again. 

This was real and as the seat belt sign flashed off and the other passengers began to shuffle with their belongings Stiles sat un-moving in his seat. He swallowed nervously and glanced to the back row of seats where the nameless men stood and walked towards him. Get up. His legs were trembling as he tried to flash a smile to the handlers, raising his brows, "So, uh, I guess you're leading the way?" One of them nodded and gestured towards the exit of the plane. Stiles bit down on the inside of his cheeks and his heart fluttered in his chest as they walked through the hollow docking. He let a sigh of relief fall from his lips when they finally entered the busy airport. 

Hong Kong International was large and people from all corners of the world paced and hurried to try and catch their flights. "A car is waiting for you, we will escort you out and collect your things. Your luggage will be waiting for you in your room at Shatterdome when you get there, Mr. Stilinski," the taller of the two men nodded towards Stiles as they were waved towards the exit. A few hushed whispers were exchanged between a young couple as they passed by which made heat rise into Stiles' cheeks. "Oh, yeah, alright, thank you... I mean, I can get my stuff myself it's-" 

"That won't be necessary."

Stiles' brows arched and he shrugged while he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. He wasn't going to argue when he was in a strange country, about to be shuttled off to a base where the most talented Jaeger pilots were stationed and trained. Anxiety swelled in his gut as they opened the doors for him and pointed him in the direction of a black town car with a driver waiting patiently at his door. He was too nervous to ask questions and too stuck in his head to worry about anything besides forming a sentence when he got to the base. They hadn't given him any instruction for what he should do upon his arrival or who he should consult when he got there and that alone terrified him. 

A car horn made him jump in the back seat and a set of soft wrinkled eyes peeked at him in the rear view mirror, "你还好吗?" 

Stiles was caught off-guard for a moment but answered, clearing his throat when his voice came out broken and squeaky, "Yeah, I'm fine, uhm - 是的，我没事..." The man nodded and Stiles went back to gazing out the window to the busy streets. Lights streamed across the windows of crowded apartment buildings and people on bicycles raced across the sidewalks. Shops were stacked on top of each other and buildings were so close to one another that they had no room to breathe. 

His lip was raw from blunt teeth gnawing reluctantly on the sensitive flesh and he switched to picking at his nails as they made a sudden right down a deserted road away from the city and towards the coast. A gate was the first thing to greet them and Stiles listened as the driver jabbered something to the guard who waved them through without protest. He had said a few things about Stiles being Raleigh‘s new recruit and assumed these drivers were well-briefed and privately employed by the Marshall if they just let him drive through without a second thought. It was dark but he strained his eyes to see the looming hangars scattered around the area. Lines of cars were parked in a parking lot out front and a few people wandered around the grounds. It was hard to make out exactly what was what but that thought was cast from his mind as the driver parked and slid out of the drivers seat. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and took in a couple deep breaths. 

"You are not a coward. You are not a fucking coward." The words were whispered to himself before the door opened and he took a shaky step out of the car. 

Relief flooded through him when he saw a familiar tall blonde walking towards the car, "Stiles, how was the flight?" 

Raleigh put a hand on his shoulder and Stiles smiled through a nod, "It was extremely long. I haven't spent that much time in one designated place in a while." Becket gave a throaty laugh and Stiles bit down on his cheek to stop the tremble in his arms. The buildings were larger once he stood in front of them and as he raked his eyes across each one he felt the air come out of him in a breathy sigh. Raleigh nodded, "It's a lot to take in at first, I know, but c'mon. We have to get your paper work done and your medical taken care of." 

Stiles was trying desperately to keep a hold of himself as he followed the pilot through a large metal door on the side of one of the buildings and choked on the air in his lungs as it slammed behind him. It was astonishing to think that a week ago he would have never thought he would be there with his feet firmly planted on polished linoleum floors and his eyes frantically trying to take in everything in the gigantic room.

The ceiling seemed to be miles away and grated metal walkways with staircases wrapped around the building at different levels. A few people were walking the floor, some carrying tool boxes and others barking at each other with clipboards in their hands. However, what stole his attention indefinitely were the metal beasts crowding the room. 

The Jaegers were amazing pieces of technology and each of them looked more powerful and un-godly in person than he had ever imagined. Striker Eureka was stationed to the left with a crew of technicians working on the damages from the last Kaiju battle. Gipsy Danger stood to the right of Striker, poised with a rustic, classic design. Chromebuster was there as well, along with the lone Lionheart hidden in the shadows, standing idly as a few workers shined the jagged chest piece that the old-school Jaeger sported. They were beautiful and Stiles saw Raleigh smile out of the corner of his eye as he watched his new recruit gawk at the four guardians, his mouth parted slightly as Stiles reminded himself again and again to breathe. 

"You'll get to know them all pretty well, but we'll have to see which Jaeger you'll be driving after we get you paired up with a co-pilot." He watched Stiles blink a few times and nod slowly, processing the information that he had neglected to think about until that moment. Stiles would have to let another human being into his head, he would have to share their memories, their pain, their life. He ran his fingers absently through his hair and tried his best to ignore the anxiety twisting in his chest. 

Raleigh led him up a flight of stairs and through another large metal door. A few people passed and he got a couple smiles, one from a pretty brunette with a tool belt wrapped around her waist and another from a nurse carrying a cardboard box full of empty vials. 

"So, basically, tonight you'll be signing a bunch of shit and getting a bunch of shots," he smiled over his shoulder at Stiles who tried his best to smile back. The walls of the facility were bare and cold and Stiles' heavy boots echoed down the hallway. Raleigh continued to chirp encouragement at him and explained the reason for the medications as they walked into a sterile room with blinding white walls and a matching white floor. Stiles had to squint and stopped for a minute to look around, thrown off by the complete lack of distinguishability between the floor and ceiling. 

A few clean white beds were spaced out along the open area and things became more clear when he made out the stark white cabinets that lined one of the walls. A polished metal tray stood at the foot of one of the beds and Raleigh gestured for Stiles to sit, "Once you're done here a nurse will walk you down to your room. Go ahead and get comfortable, relax, un-pack. The clock has been pretty spot-on for the passed few weeks so we shouldn't have a breach for the next couple days." 

Stiles didn't know what to say, he didn't know if he should nod dumbly like he had all night, ask a question or thank him again. Stiles was completely lost. Raleigh had his thumbs hanging through the belt loops of his jeans and he licked across his bottom lip as Stiles continued to fidget, "I know..." his words were rough and warm and they coaxed Stiles to look up over the rim of his glasses, "I know that this is fucking horrifying and over-whelming and that's why I'm giving you tonight to collect yourself. Get it out of your system, man." 

Stiles let a pent up breath be released from his constricted lungs and a weak smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, "Thanks... This is just a wee bit foreign to me," Stiles muttered, absently scratching his head as he looked to Raleigh who nodded back and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, well have fun getting stuck with a bunch of needles and get some rest because tomorrow," he paused as he walked backwards towards the front of the room, his tongue pinched between his teeth in a boyish grin, "tomorrow you start combat training." Raleigh waved two fingers at Stiles as he rounded the corner, stumbling into a nurse and laughing an apology as he placed his hands on her shoulders to help her regain her balance. 

Stiles watched him leave and the familiar bite of dread crept up his legs and into his stomach. It was strange but Raleigh made him feel at ease, and now that he was alone he felt completely stripped and vulnerable. It wasn't a feeling he was used to and it certainly wasn't pleasant but he tried his best to smile at the nurse, "Hi," his voice was meek and shallow, "I guess you're the one who gets to stick me with something sharp, huh?" The care-giver was a short woman with ghost white hair and deep brown eyes. She was thin and Stiles could see the sharp cut of her collar bones resting below her long pale neck. 

"Yes, sir, I am," her words were playful and her chapped lips creased into a smile. Stiles laughed nervously and folded his hands in his lap, "My name is Harmony, you don't have to call me Nurse this or Nurse that. It's not going to be too bad, but you will be a little drowsy after the last shot I give you so don't be alarmed when you start getting tired once we get you to your room." He nodded and relaxed as his feet dangled off the edge of the bed, toes dragging shallowly across the reflective white floor. Harmony was kind but it didn't stop 

Stiles from being curious about each medication and as she loaded up the first syringe he cocked his head to the side and raised a brow, "And dose number one is...?" 

The nurse laughed and flicked her index finger, "Off with it!" Her voice came out in a laugh and Stiles clutched at his black shirt. 

"M-my shirt?" he stammered and couldn't keep himself from spitting out a sarcastic laugh, "Where you gonna put that thing, anyways?" 

She rolled her eyes and tapped at her wrist as if they were on a budget for time and Stiles painfully complied as he lifted the shirt above his head and set it reluctantly down behind him. He licked over his lips and bit down on his cheek when she told him to sit up straight and take a deep breath. He winced when the needle slid into his abdomen, "This is just a standard anti-inflammatory so that your body will accept the rest of the medication." He nodded and took one deep breath after another, flinching a few times depending on where she stuck which needle. Once in his side, another time low on his hip and then another in his abdomen again. 

"Flu shot, anti-fungal, hepatitis A and B and now," Harmony walked to the other side of the room where a large metal freezer was locked and hummed softly. 

Stiles poked at his stomach and whimpered, "Anti-fungal? I mean c'mon now, really? You guys are worried about me contracting some kind of fungus?" He stuck his tongue out and his expression twisted in disgust at the thought but Harmony shrugged her shoulders and set an icy vile full of opaque blue liquid on the steel tray. 

"Well, if you get bit by one of the ticks that like to crawl all over our ugly friends out there, you might just contract some kind of disease. We've seen it happen before and we found out it's some kind of fungus but we don't exactly know how to cure it. So the anti-fungal is just a precaution," she flashed a smile and Stiles felt his stomach flip and he grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut before the sound of shoes clicking against the floor interrupted his sudden wave of regrets. "As I was saying before, and now for the last shot which will be delivered by the surgeon in this wing, Dr. Lahey." The small woman gestured to the man who just entered the room and was flipping through a file which Stiles presumed was his. 

The doctor was tall with a strong stature and a broad defined jaw. His cheekbones rested high on his face and aquamarine eyes darted up to Stiles as he closed the folder and set it down on the tray next to the vile. "Stiles?" he purred like a cat when he spoke and Stiles nodded in response as the doctor continued, "I'm Isaac, everyone here likes to refer to me as Dr. Lahey but honestly it makes me feel older than I am."

Stiles tilted his head to the side and slid his eyes down the white lab coat draped over his shoulders which tapped gently against the back of his knees until raking them back up, catching a glance at the dog tags dangling around his neck. "Okay, well Isaac, your lovely assistant has plunged like five needles into my body so... can we wrap it up or do I have to sit here while you guys play darts?" 

Stiles smiled as he spoke and was relieved when Isaac laughed and shook his head back and forth, "I know, I know, but basically all I'm here for is to make you sign some paperwork, give you the last immunization and clear you for combat and simulation training. Also, I like to at least introduce myself to the recruits so if anything happens to them they'll know whose hands will be all over their bodies in the operating room." Blood rushed to Stiles' cheeks and he choked out a laugh when the doctor smirked and loaded the blue liquid into another syringe.

It was strange how it almost glowed in the ridiculously bright room and it stole his attention away from the strangely flirtatious doctor. "What... what is that...?" There was something off about the way it looked, how thick and distorted it seemed to be and Stiles stiffened when Isaac placed a swab of alcohol against the side of his neck. 

A small sigh drifted over the young doctors mouth and his brows rose, "It's a derivative of Kaiju blue. Everyone knows that Kaiju cells begin to corrode as soon as they're killed but my father found out how to clone them. Not the Kaiju themselves but the cells inside their blood, which in turn allowed us to create a type of immunization against the effects of Kaiju blue. It disintegrates almost anything it touches, correct?" Isaac looked over to Stiles and wide, fear filled eyes greeted him. Stiles' mouth quivered and his tongue clicked against his teeth as he tried to find some way to protest getting anywhere near that needle. When Stiles didn't respond Dr. Lahey continued, "Well, now we've created something that will trick the blood into recognizing your cells as its own for a short period of time. It's a small window, five to seven minutes, but it's something and so far its saved two lives." 

Stiles had his fingers wrapped around the edge of the bed and he gripped it firmly when Isaac asked him if he was alright. He wasn't alright, not in the slightest. His heart was racing and his stomach was in knots, but as his eyes lingered on the syringe he realized that backing out at this point wasn't an option. He took his glasses off, sat them on top of his shirt and took in a sharp breath, exhaling slowly into the quiet infirmary. "Y-yeah... I'm just not too cool with you shooting Kaiju blood into my veins but-"

"It won't hurt you, Stiles," Isaac interrupted with all too delicate words and offered a warm smile, "Everyone here at the facility‘s has had the shot, including myself, and I promise you we all had our reservations."

Stiles‘ throat was dry and he swallowed tightly before he nodded and tilted his chin to the right so that the doctor could slide the needle into the supple skin a few inches below his ear. "One, two," Isaac murmured quietly and Stiles gritted his teeth when the hollow needle bit at his flesh, "three." 

It felt like ice in his veins and it dripped slowly down his neck and into his shoulder. He had expected a sting or burn but instead it was freezing and goosebumps rose over his skin. His mind was swimming and his eyes blurred for a moment before a loud snap of Isaac's fingers grounded him and he hastily snatched his glasses, clumsily setting them back on the bridge of his nose. Isaac was chuckling and his mouth was spread into a wide smile, "It's powerful, I know," the doctor reached for the file and opened it, handing it over to Stiles who had his hand pressed to the throbbing area on his neck. 

"Now, this is just saying you've received all the immunizations and consented to each of them, sign here," Stiles obliged and scribbled his signature where the doctor pointed, "and here... and once more," he flipped the page and Stiles nodded, chills running down his spine as he read the bold words on the bottom of the sheet above the blank line.

**STILES STILINSKI - JAEGER PILOT**

He signed his name and handed the paper back to Isaac. The doctor showed his open palm and Stiles reached out to shake it firmly.

"Congratulations, Mr. Stilinski. Welcome to the resistance." 

\-----------------------------

The walk to his room was short and Harmony reminded him once again that he would soon start to feel uncommonly drowsy and that it was just his body fighting and accepting the foreign substance. It still made Stiles extremely uneasy that he had any kind of Kaiju blue swimming around his blood stream, even if it was cloned DNA and he started fidgeting with his nails again as they walked up a flight of stairs to the third floor. Round metal doors lined the walls and as they approached the third door on the right Harmony stopped and nodded politely, "Here we are, Stiles. Your belongings are waiting for you so feel free to make yourself at home. Mr. Becket informed me to tell you," she cleared her throat and raised dainty fingers into air quotes, "'You better get yourself ready because tomorrow I'm going to kick your skinny ass into shape.'" 

Stiles pulled his lips into a thin line and huffed, "I'm not that skinny..." 

Harmony smiled sweetly and poked Stiles in the back to get him to walk inside, "You get used to his charm," she piped and waved to him as he closed the heavy door to his new home. 

Amber eyes washed across the small enclosure. The bed was to the right and was decently sized with black sheets and a black comforter, a small dresser was pushed against the wall and a large square mirror hung above it. A nightstand sat next to his bed and the walls were empty of any decoration besides three shelves on the far wall to the left. It wasn't a big space by any means but it would do. His suitcases were set in the middle of the room and a dull ache settled at the bottom of his stomach as he unzipped them, plugged his phone in and began to fill the drawers of his new dresser with his clothes. 

It didn't take him that long to unpack and as he came close to finishing he could feel the effects of the last shot sucking the energy out of his body. He sat on the edge of his bed and kicked his shoes off, starring down at a framed picture. A beautiful woman with an up-turned nose and long brown locks had her face buried in the belly of a laughing baby boy and it coaxed a soft smile to cradle Stiles' mouth. He set the frame on the wooden top of the nightstand and let himself fall back onto the bed, tired eyes blinking up at the ceiling. He yawned and his eyes lidded closed and he wondered once again about what it is he had got himself into. He reminded himself absently that this was an adventure, a risk, and that was the last thing he thought to himself before his breathing fell into an even pattern and he drifted to sleep.


	3. Chapter Three

The next week had been full of nothing but training and settling in for Stiles. His body was sore and bruised and his mind was wrecked from the on-going brutality of each simulation. Raleigh had been making him do at least three live simulation-sets a day on top of his normal training and that alone had exhausted every inch of him, but as he sat in the cafeteria nibbling on the end of a celery stick, Stiles found that he was adjusting quite well to his new surroundings.  


Shatterdome was larger than he had expected and there was much more to the base than what he had first seen when he was dropped off. When Raleigh had given him a proper tour Stiles was able to see everything, from the tall hangars to the large multi-story office and apartment buildings that lingered behind them. They had walked from wing to wing and Stiles was given the chance to get up close and personal to each Jaeger. 

There was eight stationed in Hong Kong, the four he had seen when he first arrived included, Gipsy Danger, Striker Eureka, Chromebuster and Lionheart and in the other wings the German Jaeger, Titan Omega along with the Chinese, Canadian and Russian bots, Outlaw Archimedes, Yukon Echo and the new and improved Cherno Alpha. Each of them were extravagant and Stiles had given them no justice when he explained them to Danny over the phone a few days ago. He had tried to find words to express how completely surreal it was to be starring up at something so grand and when Danny had laughed and made a comment about what it would be like to actually be piloting one, Stiles felt his stomach drop into his feet. 

He gingerly forked at his salad and glanced around to the crowded room of people as they ate and laughed amongst one another. The most tolling test he had been struggling to master was the live play by play. It had never occurred to him that a simulation could be so realistic and more importantly he never thought he would be so good at keeping a hold of himself in the situations they had placed him in.  


It was strange, when Raleigh locked the large metal arms over his own and Stiles had stepped into the mock locks that snapped around his shoes to keep him secure and in place. A device was wrapped around his chest and small steel claws dug almost painfully into his rib cage while a long thin bar with tiny hooked fingers clasped over his spine. It was a large dark room, nearly empty with nothing hanging from the walls or ceiling and the door that led to it had slid open after Raleigh in-putted a code allowing it to be completely invisible from the inside. Stiles hadn't put two and two together until his coach had exited the room and the first simulation started. It was as if he was in the middle of a battle and everything around him suddenly came to life, wires hung dangerously close to his face and the window of his Jaeger was streaked with large drops of rain. 

He had choked when the face of a leathery, multi-eyed beast crowded his vision and the all-too-real hologram of a Kaiju was snapping its jaws in his direction. Raleigh had walked in and placed a hand on his shoulder, assuring him that no one passed their first time and he shouldn't worry about it. Stiles had been shaking and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans so Raleigh wouldn't think he was as terrified as he really had been.  


"Stiles!" A friendly voice called from behind him and he smiled when he saw Allison Argent approaching the table. He had been introduced the morning after his medical screening and he swore he had never met anyone with a better smile. 

"Hey, sit down, eat with me so I don't feel completely and utterly alone," Stiles playfully whined and Allison scoffed, setting her plate down on the other side of him as she shook her head, "Don't worry! Everyone's going to warm up to you, especially since Raleigh likes you so much. And I like you! Even though you need to work on your Ryukyu." 

Allison winked and Stiles shrugged, nodding along with her, "Yeah well, that's what you're here for, right?" She flashed a crooked smile before taking a bite of the chicken sandwich on her plate. Allison had greeted him with a firm hand shake and a sweet smile the day that Becket walked Stiles down to the on-site gym. Brunette hair was pulled out of her face, while her knuckles were wrapped in tight black bandaging. She had seemed far too gentle to be his combat specialist but Stiles learned a few hours later not to judge a book by its cover.  


"So, boyfriend gets back today, huh?" Stiles arched a brow and chuckled at the sheepish grin Allison now sported.

She nodded and covered her mouth when she spoke, still trying to chew a piece of chicken, "Yep, apparently everything went well over in Moscow so he should be here sometime tonight. Raleigh doesn't have anything scheduled for you, right?" 

Stiles shook his head and her eyes brightened, "Come out with us! Please! Come out with us, Isaac will be there and so will the Eureka team, we're going into the city for drinks." Stiles bristled and plucked the glasses off his nose so he could nervously fiddle with them. He didn't quite know how to respond and somewhere in the back of his mind he felt as if she was doing this because she felt bad for his complete lack of social skills. 

He shoved another spoon full of kale and ginger dressing into his mouth, giving himself a chance to deliberate before answering. She watched him hopefully and when he finally sighed and said 'fine' her lips creased into a grin and she rambled about how much fun they would have and how Stiles and her boyfriend were going to get along great.  


It felt so foreign to him, going out with people that trained him and going out with his... doctor? Some part of it didn't seem right but then again he was supposed to climb into a giant robot and fight aliens, so justifying anything as normal these days seemed to be a stretch. "Do you guys hang out like all the time or-"  


"It's weird but we're all like family here," she shrugged and Stiles nodded along as she explained further, "We all talk and we get out as much as we can, we celebrate holidays together and a lot of us even know each others families. You'll get close to everyone in time, don't worry. Especially when you start doing public appearances with the other pilots. We just have to find you a partner first." Her eyebrows raised and Stiles looked away to try and hide the fear glazed across his eyes. Raleigh had said something about that when they were training the other day, how his partner would have to compliment him mentally and physically without complicating him to the point of disruption in drift. The statement physically made his head ache and when Stiles asked him to explain all Becket said was 'you'll see.'  


They finished their lunch and traded stories about the school they'd gone to and what they had majored in, how it played out in their lives now. Allison had attended CalTech and received her degree in Engineering and a minor in Bioengineering, which was extremely impressive and made Stiles look at the young woman in a completely different light. Not only was she an amazing field specialist and a bad-ass when it came to hand-to-hand combat, but she was also extremely intelligent. 

"Mako's the one who trained me, actually," the words rolled off of Allison's tongue like they were nothing more than a passing phrase.

Stiles choked on his water, eyes narrowing at her, "Mako? Mako Mori? Like, Gipsy Danger Mako?" 

Allison nodded and wiped her mouth leisurely with a napkin, "Yeah, she's known my Dad for a really long time and she started training me when I was fifteen, I think? Fifteen or sixteen... No, it was fifteen. So, yeah, her training was definitely a determining factor on me being here right now, besides my father wanted to keep an eye on me."  


It took a moment for Stiles to fully register what she had said before his lips parted and he cocked his head to the side, eyeing her up and down, "Argent? Oh my god, you're Chris Argent's daughter. Marshall Argent's daughter!"

Allison pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, nodding and mumbling 'yeah yeah' and 'I know, okay.' Stiles hadn't had the chance to meet the Marshall or his partner, Herc Hansen. Apparently the Marshall title was being shared between the two due to the huge growth in the program. Chris was Raleigh and Mako's mentor and seeing as Raleigh was Stiles' coach, it would only make sense that he would meet Mr. Argent at some point. Stiles chewed nervously on his nails at the thought. Allison opened her mouth to continue but a hand fell over her shoulder and she looked up at Isaac who took a seat next to her and smiled over at Stiles.

"Ah, the new recruit," the doctor arched a brow at Stiles who rolled his eyes and nodded along, "How are you doing these days? I haven't seen you in the infirmary so you must be doing alright."  


Stiles shrugged and tilted a cup of now luke-warm tea to his lips, "Yeah, I'm alright. Just kind of going through the motions, I guess. Allison keeps kicking my ass and Raleigh keeps getting irritated because my simulation results aren't getting matched with any of the candidates here." 

Raleigh had been trying to pair Stiles up with someone since his second day on site so that he could begin dual-training but something about his test results were proving difficult. Raleigh kept saying he was too smart for his own good which made Stiles snort and shake his head again and again. 

Isaac looked across the table and eyed the pilot carefully, "I have an odd feeling I just figured out who Raleigh was on the phone with this morning..." 

Stiles bristled and he pushed his plate away from him as curiosity beamed through the lenses of his glasses, "Okay? Well, I don't really know if you're trying to tell me something without telling me something but if you know-"  


A sharp beep came from Isaac's phone and he reached into his pocket, sighing loudly when he read the words flashing across the screen. "Engineer burned themselves working on Lionheart's chest piece, but I'll see you tonight?" He glanced at Allison who nodded and then he looked to Stiles with an inviting smile, "And you too?" Stiles nodded and tried to choke out a 'wait' but realized Dr. Lahey probably had something much more important to address than his curiosity.  


Allison tilted her head to the side and grinned at Stiles, "Well, we should probably head down to the gym. You've already gone through one simulation today so let's get you into some hand-to-hand." 

Stiles eyes rolled towards the ceiling and he chuckled when Allison laughed and tugged at his arm, urging him forward, "C'mon beta! Get off your ass, let's go hit some shit!" He was up and stumbling to follow her as she pulled him through the cafeteria and towards the elevator. He stopped dead in his tracks when she reached to press the button and she jerked, looking over her shoulder, "Stiles?"  


He swallowed dryly and nudged his shoulder towards the staircase, "C'mon, you're the fitness freak here, it's only on the third floor." He shook her hand from its grasp on his arm and she eyed him carefully before following his lead and listening to their shoes clank against the stairs.  


They were laughing when they walked through the doors of the large gymnasium, the floor was padded and intricate machines lined the walls. Free weights were stacked on shelves to the right and in the center of the room was a large square platform where sparring matches were held between potential pilot partners. A couple people were lifting weights around the room, but what captured Stiles' attention was the sound of fists slamming against a punching bag to the left of them. He hadn't had the chance to properly meet Mako Mori and when she took in a breath and looked up to lock eyes with him, it became prevalent that she was the anchor in the relationship between herself and Raleigh. While Becket had a sense of warmth and comfort, Mako made chills run down his spine and he immediately stood up straight when she walked forward.  


Mako wrapped an arm around Allison and rubbed her back gently, "Hello, my flower, how are you doing? Who is this?" 

Stiles smiled at how soft-spoken the woman was and when she extended her hand he took it without hesitation, "Stiles," he said it clearly and nodded. 

Mako's eyes narrowed and a her thin lips twisted into a smile, "Ah, Raleigh's new prodigy, we don't quite see eye to eye on your future, I must say." 

Stiles felt blood rush to his cheeks and Allison's bright grin immediately fell. Embarrassment flooded through him and he bit down on his lip, reached up to run his hand through his hair and laughed nervously, "Uh, well, you know I don't even think I see eye to eye with Raleigh on my future," he frowned and wrinkled his nose.

Allison cleared her throat and tried to feign a smile, "So! Well, I'm training him so we can try and get him-"  


"A co-pilot. Yes, I'm well aware," Mako hadn't taken her eyes off of Stiles and her unwavering gaze was causing him to feel more uncomfortable than he had since the shot Isaac had insisted on giving him the first day he had arrived. It seemed as if both Allison and Stiles were caught off guard and when his combat specialist's eyes narrowed, he felt as if he should probably busy himself else where. 

"Mako, can we- Can I speak to you? Stiles, go ahead and warm up. Stretch and treadmill," Allison didn't look at him when she spoke but he nodded, mumbling a 'nice to meet you' to Mako. It was strange to receive a sincere and sweet, 'you too, Stiles' as he walked towards the other end of the gym.  


He watched them as he grabbed his foot, pulled it behind him and stretched. He had been overwhelmed with curiosity since Isaac had rambled about something obviously having to do with his co-pilot this morning and now Mako seemed to already disapprove of him without a second thought. Allison reached forward and tentatively touched Mako's hands who shook her head and leaned forward, nodding when Allison suddenly looked completely taken aback. Her head jerked and the pretty brown curls around her shoulders swayed when she shook her head. All Stiles could make out was hand motions and both of them nodding and shaking their heads at each other.  


The technicalities in finding a co-pilot were obscure and he completely understood that, but what worried him was the underlying detail he was missing that everyone else around him seemed to grasp. Stiles assumed they were going to line up some guys and gals and they'd take a few swings at each other, simulate together, and then ultimately drift together. It was a lengthy process but with as many candidates waiting to be partnered as there were, it only seemed plausible that he would find a co-pilot reasonably fast. Apparently he was wrong about that and as Mako placed her hand on Allison's shoulder and they said their goodbyes, he turned quickly to walk towards the treadmills behind him.  


Allison flashed a smile when she approached and hopped up onto the machine next to Stiles as he jogged. He tried to keep himself from sounding desperate but the words came out rushed and breathy, "What was that?" 

He saw her shake her head and purse her lips into a thin line before she offered another warm smile, "It's nothing, really. Nothing that you need to worry about. We're going to have you go hand-to-hand with a few other pilots today and hopefully find someone for you to share the deck with." Allison ignored him when Stiles heaved a sigh and narrowed his eyes at her.  


They warmed up and trained lightly, Stiles aimed punches at the pads in Allison's hand and struck at them with his foot. He had taken some martial arts briefly through out high school, it was something his father had him do to occupy his time between lacrosse seasons, so he seemed to catch on quickly. It also helped that Allison was understanding and playful when it came to training him. They laughed a lot and she didn't push him too hard which kept Stiles comfortable and loose throughout their sessions together.  


Stiles and Allison had been sparring for close to an hour before Raleigh interrupted them and walked in with a line of men and women behind him. Allison waved a hand to follow as they walked up to the large platform in the middle of the room. The black padded floors squished slightly on his bare feet and Stiles could suddenly feel anxiety tickling at the back of his throat. They looked well-trained and most of them looked dangerous, much more dangerous than Stiles had ever hoped to look. A small whine vibrated in his throat and Allison reassuringly tapped him with her elbow, "You'll be fine." 

He stayed quiet and bit down on his bottom lip, starring at Raleigh as his coach flipped through a spiral notebook, "Stiles," he called his name and Stiles walked over to stand at his side. 

"So, these are the people that relatively matched up to your test scores when it came to tactical and streamline decision making. Now, you're going to spar with them and see if your fighting style compliments or inhibits each other," opaque blue eyes flicked over to Stiles who pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and nodded as if he understood. 

"Ah, well, this should be fun. That guy looks like he's fought a bear, that guy looks like he is a bear and she just, she doesn't even look like she wants to be here. I mean, really man-"  


Raleigh placed his hand flat on Stiles' back and pushed him forward towards the platform. Stiles stumbled and was grumbling something about how embarrassing this was going to be and how completely ridiculous it was that he ever signed up for this in the first place. Before he took the first step onto the platform he snatched the glasses off his face and walked back to hand them to Allison. She was standing next to Raleigh and her lips were curved into a small smile, "Go on, just be as relaxed as possible. If you force it then the bond created will be warped, we need you to be completely yourself."

Stiles nodded and sighed as he walked back towards the raised area where a girl much shorter than him waited to begin. Stiles didn't quite know what had happened except for that his legs were knocked out from underneath him and his back hit the floor with a loud smack. He winced and took in a deep breath before he rose to his feet and tilted his head to the side to crack his neck. The small girl didn't smile or move much at all, she just stared at him like he was a job she had to execute and that alone made him not interested in potentially meeting his death with her in a Jaeger.  


They cycled through five candidates and Allison and Raleigh winced the whole time. Either Stiles ended up on his back or his opponent ended up on theirs, but in the long run none of them had the finesse that he did. Stiles was quick and agile, he dodged more than anything else, but in the instances when he did fight it was nothing less than impressive. Stiles possessed valuable qualities: He fought using his mind, his body movements were fluid and he didn't give up. Raleigh noticed that every time Stiles got knocked down it wasn't anger or defeat that flashed across his face, but he was pensive and each time came back with a completely different strategy than before. 

"He's innovative," Raleigh looked at Allison who nodded in agreement, "And he's witty and stubborn and we aren't going to be able to pair him with just anyone." Allison could hear something spark in Raleigh's voice and she arched a brow as soft brown eyes turned back to Stiles. "That's enough!" Raleigh sighed, folding his arms across his chest, "We're done for the day."  


Stiles swallowed hard and took in breath after breath as sweat dripped off the tip of his nose and slid down his temple. His stomach was knotted and his breathing was shaky as he stepped off the platform to walk towards Becket and his trainer. His body was sore and his eyes were tired but he thanked Allison anyways when she handed him his glasses and turned his attention to Raleigh as he put them back on. 

"You remind me a lot of Mako," Becket smiled and Stiles tried to contain a small laugh and nervously looked at the ground, "And you're extremely different when it comes to combat. You strategize and you only engage if you have a set plan. It's interesting." Raleigh had his head tilted to the side and his eyes drifted from Stiles' feet to the top of his head and back again. 

The intrusion of his coaches eyes made Stiles desperately want to find his shirt but he smirked and picked at his nail beds, "Well, I don't wanna brag or anything..." His words were laced with sarcasm and Stiles laughed through them.

Raleigh rolled his eyes and cut him off, "Yeah, yeah, well you're done for today. I have someone coming in tomorrow to go hand-to-hand with you. I'm kind of kicking myself in the ass that I didn't call him earlier 'cause honestly, I should have known when I met you at Brown that you'd work well together." 

Stiles' eyes lit up as he stammered and stumbled over his words, "W-who? I mean, no offense but Mako doesn't seem to think I'm really meant for this whole shin-dig and I'd like to at least know who-"  


"It's not you, Stiles," Raleigh started walking, Allison was quick to follow and Stiles almost tripped as he hurriedly kept pace next to him, "It's the guy I'm almost one hundred percent positive is going to be your co-pilot. She thinks you guys are completely incompatible."  


"Who, though? Can I get a name, a description, can you like draw me a sketch? I don't know, something?"  


Allison pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at the ground as Raleigh turned and smiled, "Nope. You just have to trust me." Stiles didn't know if it was appropriate to shove his middle finger in the air and shake his head at the man who saved the planet, but he did it anyways and Becket simply let a throaty laugh fill the hallway before he turned and walked away, the logo of his bomber jacket disappearing behind two large metal doors.  


\------------------------------  


Stiles had bothered Allison about who it was that Raleigh, Isaac and Mako were all so up in arms about and she politely told him not to worry about it over and over again. He was persistent and finally she had turned towards him and sighed, "He's an Alpha, and that's all you need to know." 

Her voice was gentle but firm and Stiles inhaled through his nose, head lolling up so he could focus his blank stare at the ceiling. "Okay, well, that would make sense if I knew what being an Alpha meant. I mean I know you called me a beta or whatever but I just thought that was some weird joke I would figure out later," amber eyes turned back down to look at her and Allison busied herself with tying her hair back into a pony tail. 

"They're terms we use for ranking. It happened during Breach One, Stacker started calling his all-stars 'Alphas' and it stuck," she eyed Stiles carefully and he blinked back at her, "A beta is your typical Jaeger pilot, not that being a Jaeger pilot is typical by any means but..." Allison paused and took in a small breath, "An Alpha has more than ten kills. Mako and Raleigh are an Alpha team. Now, go to your room and put something nice on! We're going out tonight!"  


Stiles nodded and looked to the side as he tried to process what she had just said. An Alpha. His stomach clenched and he bit down on his cheek, eyes flashing to Allison as she placed a hand on his arm. "Don't over think this," she gripped gently and Stiles tried his best to relax, "It will be fine and a part of me agrees with Raleigh, I think you two will be great. Just... go get ready. I'll meet you outside the building at seven, okay?" She looked at him from under her lashes and her eyes urged him to let go of the subject. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded, a smile pulling at the sides of his mouth.  


Allison dropped his arm and walked towards the large metal elevator while Stiles made his way down the hall and to the right where the long stretch of rooms were. He opened the door, tossed his shirt on the bed and took a couple steps towards the dresser. He breathed evenly as his reflection stared back at him in the mirror and Stiles placed his hands on his arms, slid them down his bare chest and poked at a few moles that lingered on his hips. He wasn't in bad shape, he had proven that today, but he was still lean and tall and as much as he liked his body, he wasn't quite sure that it was Jaeger material. 

His nose wiggled before he walked over and picked up his phone. Three text messages from Danny, one from Laurie, and one from his Dad. He read through them and chuckled at a few, a small smile twitched across his mouth and he pulled his glasses off so he could paw at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Okay..." he murmured under his breath before he placed the phone back down and grabbed a towel from inside one of the shelves and walked into the bathroom to shower.  


\------------------------------  


Allison and Isaac were waiting outside when Stiles walked out and they both smiled his direction as he approached. "Look at you," Allison reached out and poked his chest, "you're hot."

Stiles arched a brow, reaching out to poke Allison in the forehead, "So are you." He didn't know if he should be as comfortable with her as he was, but it came naturally and after the passed week of getting to know her she seemed more like a friend to him than his trainer. Stiles was relieved when she laughed and swatted at his hand, "C'mon, we have a car waiting."  


Allison's dress was simple, a form-fitted black cocktail dress with a small sequin design sewn across the bust. Her heels made tiny clicks across the asphalt and Stiles thanked Isaac when he opened the door of the town car as they slid in. Isaac rolled up the sleeves of the baggy cream shirt he was wearing and sighed when Allison leaned up to jabber to the driver about where to take them. Stiles was nervous, the kind of nervous children get when their parents drop them off at school for the first time. He played with his glasses as Isaac took out his phone and began typing out a message, "So, Lan Kwai Fong right Allison?" 

She turned back to Isaac and nodded, "Yeah, Scott and the Striker's are meeting us down there at that little pub, remember the one with that really spicy martini?" The doctor nodded and laughed, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, "Oh my god, the one where Erica did like, eight shots of Patron and-" his voice broke off as he continued to laugh and Allison flopped back into the seat to laugh along with him. Stiles fiddled with his fingertips and couldn't help but feel out of place. It was as if he was intruding on a group of people who had been friends for a long time, knew each others in and outs, and it made him withdrawn and uncomfortable.  


Stiles reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to try and look like he was doing something besides being awkward and anti-social. A small smile pulled at his lips when he re-read Danny's texts but he was interrupted when Isaac's shoulder bumped casually into his, "So, I don't really know much about you, Stiles. What do you like to do?" 

Allison peaked around Isaac's shoulder and Stiles blinked up through his glasses and his brows furrowed, "Well, you know, honestly I'm kind of boring. I played lacrosse in high school, I'm pretty outdoorsy, I like hiking and..." he paused and tried to think of something more to say but ended up letting his hands fall into his lap, "Yeah, I don't know. Like I said, I'm boring." 

He hated when people asked him such open-ended questions because he could never seem to swim through his mind and find something even slightly interesting to say. Isaac tilted his head to the side, "Ah, well, fair enough. We'll all get to know you in time I'm sure," the doctor winked and Stiles rolled his eyes and shook his head before he turned to look out the window. The city was amazing, full of people with lights flashing in every direction. 

The buildings towered above of them and as they drove into the Fong district, he noticed that everything brightened up even more. Bars, clubs and restaurants lined the sidewalk. Their driver had to drop them off across the street due to the amount of people crowding the roads and when Stiles stepped out of the car he could feel his heart beat in his fingertips.  


Sky-scrapers lined the dark horizon and bright bulbs of fluorescent colored light illuminated the strip. Every few feet there was a new shop, club or eatery to explore and they all had their own decor and personality, lit signs beckoned and pulled at customers to get them inside and even the trees and shrubs had strings of lights twined through their branches. It was beautiful and Stiles felt exponentially smaller as he walked through the sea of people in the well-known party district of Hong Kong. 

Allison took his hand and had her other arm looped through Issac's as he led them through the 'L' shaped corridor of the street. Amber eyes tried their best to take in anything and everything as he stumbled along, laughing with Allison as they made their way into a small pub underneath a sign beaming '1997' in fluorescent purple numbers. They all took in a deep breath when they escaped the swarm of people and Isaac swatted Stiles gently on the back when they sat down at a large round table across from the bar. It was a petite establishment, with a dark wood bar and a few tables set sparely around the room. Pictures hung on the walls of famous moments in history and the skull of some kind of infant Kaiju was mounted proudly above the shelves of alcohol behind the bar. It was quaint, quiet and was moderately busy.  


"Hey!" Isaac raised his arm, waving two fingers towards the door, "Scott!" He shouted again and leaned back in his chair to try and get the attention of the three people walking through the door. Stiles pulled nervously at the thin black tie wrapped around the collar of his white button up shirt and tapped his boots together underneath the table. He hadn't been in a situation like this in a very long time and it was causing him to itch and chew on his lip. It didn't take long before Allison was up and out of her chair and Stiles watched with a coy smile as she weaved through the small crowd next to the bar to throw her arms around a dark haired young man wearing a blue v-neck and khaki pants. The two following him were laughing and nodded to Isaac when they approached.

Erica Reyes was like a rebellious barbie doll, her untamed blonde curls bounced when she walked and the devious expression she wore never failed to turn heads. Her lips were painted a deep red and they parted when she set her eyes on Stiles, "And who might this be?" She sounded like a phone-sex-operator, mewling through the question as she set her elbows on the table and leaned forward to drag a pointed nail across a coaster. 

"Well, Erica Reyes, this is Stiles Stilinski, Raleigh's new recruit. Stiles, Erica, and," Isaac paused and gestured to the man next to them, "this is Boyd. Stiles, meet the Striker Eureka team."  


Stiles raised a glass full of dark liquid and arched a brow, "Nice to meet you both."  


Erica was the kind of beautiful that caused car accidents and Boyd was warm with deep skin and even deeper eyes. They looked terrifying and gorgeous and Stiles had no idea whether he wanted their autograph or to ask as many prying questions as he possibly could about the Jaeger program. He promptly decided against both ideas and settled with smiling and nodding along with their stories of the horrible time they had at the last PR meeting.  


"Oh my fucking god," Erica's voice was sultry and the spice underneath each word made Stiles want to know what it would be like to listen to her sing, "Peter is just, god, that man. That beautiful, disgusting, sassy man, if I could tear his throat out I would." Isaac and Boyd were laughing and Stiles sipped on his drink before he looked across to the couple now leaning against the bar. Allison had her lips pressed firmly to Scott's and her thumb gently stroked along his cheek. They had their mouths pressed against each others ears, nodding and laughing along with whatever it was they were talking about. All Stiles could make out was the relief and happiness that was prevalent between the two.  


"Hey," Boyd's voice interrupted him as Stiles raked his gaze around the room and he snapped his attention back to the table, "So, new beta, huh? You got a co-pilot yet?" 

Stiles blinked and it took a moment for him to shake his head and let a 'no' fall from his lips. "I guess I'm too fucking complicated for anyone to handle," Stiles said sarcastically. 

Isaac reached over and gripped his shoulder, shaking Stiles playfully, "Raleigh's got something in the works, I'm sure. You just have to be patient."  


Erica smiled and lifted a martini glass full of lime green liquid to her lips taking a drink before she set it back down, "Boyd and I only had one hand-to-hand and it was with each other. We literally were paired from the beginning, one test, one combat, one simulation and then we were recruited. The Australian's needed a good team after..." Erica looked down and Stiles swore he saw her lips quiver. Boyd reached over and laced his fingertips with hers, "Well, you know, but we decided we'd take it. It was an honor to pilot Striker, especially after all her new modifications and improvements the PPDC put in place." 

Stiles didn't have to ask, no one did. Stacker Pentecost and Chuck Hansen had fallen in battle when piloting the Australian Jaeger nearly six years ago and were considered international heroes for their bravery and sacrifice. It didn't surprise Stiles that Erica would be sensitive when it came to a subject like that, for most people the Jaeger program had been a dream and both her and Boyd had been given the chance to honor two extremely well-known and well-respected pilots.  


"I didn't think you were ever coming back, man!" Isaac's voice shattered the heavy conversation and he stood to pull Allison's boyfriend into a tight hug. 

"Ah, yeah, well Russia is fine and their Jaeger's are in great condition. Didn't take me long to whip 'em into shape," his voice was airy and it only made sense that someone as friendly as Scott would be dating Allison. When he smiled his cheeks pushed up against his eyes and his dimples rolled against his cheeks, he looked like someone who surfed on a regular basis and didn't take life as seriously as he probably should but Stiles smiled when deep chocolate eyes beamed across the table. 

"You must be Stiles!" Scott was much more excited than Stiles had expected him to be and awkwardly looked around before nodding his head as he answered, "Yes?"  


Stiles laughed when Scott made him get up and pulled him into his chest. The hug was warm and it was shocking that he felt as comfortable as he did with the group of people. They were more accepting than he ever expected them to be. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the lack of worry or care for Jaeger's or Kaiju or anything else that had to do with the on-going war, but as the group sat around the table and went on and on about random subjects, Stiles found his guard begin to melt.  


Scott was brilliant and when he explained to Stiles that he was a high school drop out from San Francisco, it made Stiles even more interested. He told the story of how he met Allison when her car over-heated on her way to visit her mother and she interjected to add in, 'estranged mother,' Scott rolled his eyes and continued, explaining that they started dating and when she learned that he wanted to be an engineer she pushed him to go back to school. 

Erica, Boyd and Isaac had all listened as well, chuckling when Scott's voice broke into loud, animated excitement over the re-launch of the program. He looked at Allison when he spoke of her bravery when she went to her father and convinced him to take Scott on as an engineer at Shatterdome. Allison blushed and looked down at her hands as they curled around the glass settled between them, "and then I proved myself and Pan Pacific offered to pay for off-site schooling. Now I'm the Chief Design Technician and I specialize in nuclear fusion. That's why I was over in Moscow, I was helping them perfect some of the core receptors on their designs."  


Stiles' lips were parted as he listened and he huffed a small sigh when Scott finished, shaking his head back and forth. "Man, you guys are amazing. All I can do is ramble in different languages," he laughed and so did Allison who slapped his arm playfully. As much as he wanted to joke around and act like it didn't affect him, it did. Every single person surrounding him was someone of worth and the ut-most respect but Stiles, he was just a college student who stupidly threw himself into something due to his lack of self-control. 

He picked at his nails under the table and finished his second drink with ease, smiling over to Isaac when he leaned against Stiles' shoulder, "You'll be great. You don't give yourself enough credit, nor do you give yourself enough time." Isaac's words were kind and Erica nodded, eyes closing when Boyd gingerly pressed his lips against her temple, "Trust me, Stiles," caramel eyes gazed at him and she tugged at the leather jacket wrapped snug around her shoulders, "Raleigh wouldn't just choose anyone."  


Stiles blushed and smiled down at his hands which he folded on the table to try and keep from fidgeting. His stomach was doing flips and he tried his best to keep listening as his new friends continued to talk about this or that. The conversations were going everywhere, from dates to old-girlfriends and boyfriends all the way to stories about bar hopping and dancing. His mind buzzed and his body was warm but Stiles still couldn't comprehend the acceptance that was so quickly extended from the people surrounding him. As much as he wanted to keep his distance, he found himself opening up more and more as the night went on. One drink later and they were all clapping, throwing their heads back in laughter and reaching out to tap each others hands when they spoke. 

Stiles hadn't laughed that hard since his third year in college, and he hadn't felt himself really fall head first into something like this since sophomore year in high school. It was a whole new group of people and as Stiles watched and listened he quickly realized that they weren't only their titles. Allison and Scott weren't only field specialists, Isaac wasn't just his doctor and Erica and Boyd weren't only defined by Striker Eureka. They had issues and kinks and pet peeves just like anyone else and Stiles understood that although they were part of something extraordinary, they were just like him. Young people who threw themselves into something much bigger than themselves and grasped desperately to the normalcy of a night at a bar together, drinking and stumbling and sharing experiences that they could all relate to. It was a nice step outside of Shatterdome and a escape from the fear and worry of battle.  


The night went on until the early morning and they were still laughing as they all stumbled onto the grounds. Scott had been talking to Stiles all night about school, and had made Stiles speak in French and German multiple times. 

"Say it again, say it again," Scott fell into Stiles' shoulder and they laughed as they walked into the building through the large metal doors next to the hangar. "J'aime les crêpes," Stiles hummed and Scott laughed again. Allison was next to them, her heels dangling from her fingertips as they hurriedly walked passed the large glass windows looking onto the control deck. Scott stopped abruptly in his tracks, eyes locked on two men that stood in front of the array of key boards and computer screens. 

Allison narrowed her eyes, "Scott what..." her voice faded when she looked through the glass and Stiles turned, the smile on his face fading as he saw the expression both of them wore.  


"What's... going on," Stiles turned and looked to the right, amber eyes locking on to Raleigh who was talking with his hands to someone across from him. Stiles was taken a back when the smoldering gaze of the man in front of Raleigh ran right into his own and he choked on a sharp breath. 

He was beautiful, tall with broad shoulders and distinct features. The strangers eyes trailed across him and Stiles finally looked away, lashes covering his eyes as he stared at the ground. Allison swallowed and looked over to Scott whose breath was coming out in short exasperated words that Stiles couldn't make out. When he had the courage to look back up the man's eyes were still glued to him, mouth moving as if he was speaking to Raleigh as well.  


"Derek... Derek's back," Scott's words were soft and saturated in disbelief but Stiles didn't have time to react because Allison had them both by the arms and pulled them firmly towards the stairs.


	4. Chapter Four

"It's been a while," Allison's voice was soft in the empty cafeteria. It was cold and her mascara streaked when she pawed at her eye with the back of her hand. She messed lazily with her hair and absently dug into the black clutch on the table before she pushed brown locks back out of her face and tied them with a rubber band. The woman looked up and hazel eyes blinked back at her from behind an array of thick dark lashes but the pilot stayed quiet, waving his fingers through the steam that rose from a coffee mug sitting in front of him.  


"Derek," Allison's voice was soft and she shifted to reach across the uncomfortable metal table and tap on the top of his hand. His lips twitched into something of a smile and the man lifted his gaze, "Yeah, it has been a while hasn't it?" She tilted her head to the side and her fingers curled around his hand as she gripped it gently, "A year," she whispered, "It's been almost a year and we didn't get a phone call, a letter, you didn't even say goodbye." 

His jaw tightened and he pulled his hand away to slip his index finger through the handle of the coffee cup and set it against his lips. Allison watched him, dark eyes flicked from the small faded scars on his arms to the sharp line of his jaw. Derek didn't answer, he just placed his elbows on the table and wrapped both of his hands around the warm cup.  


"Scott was devastated when you left, he didn't know where you ran off to or if you were okay-"  


"I wasn't," Derek's voice broke and he looked up at Allison who stared back at him, "I wasn't okay."  


The woman looked down at the table and bit down on her lip. It was four o'clock in the morning and the air was stale and stripped raw. Allison had put the boys to bed close to an hour ago, assured Stiles that everything would be explained to him in the morning and kissed Scott, hushing him when the words coming out of his mouth caused traffic between his lips and started running into one another. When she had hurriedly walked back to the control room she found Derek standing with his arms crossed over his chest and two coffee cups dangling from his hand. She had never expected to see him again, to try and re-connect. Allison had never expected him to actually come back.  


His words stung and she closed her eyes, "I know, none of us... none of us were okay, but..." Allison's words faded into the silent room and she tried to reach for his hand again but he sat back in the chair, eyeing her carefully. She inhaled sharply and apologized, holding her open palm out and offering a tired smile, "I'm sorry for bringing... We won't... let's just forget about it for right now, what have you been doing? C'mon," she curled her fingers back and forth and Derek's lips pulled back into a smile as he set a warm hand on her own.  


"Coaching girls soccer back home," he murmured, sipping on his coffee. Allison laughed and tugged gently on his calloused fingertips, "Really? You're so cute, mister big and bad being a high school coach in Oregon. Look at'chu." They laughed and Derek rolled his eyes, listening to the echo of their voices bounce off the pillars around them. The conversation was soft, Derek asked about the program and how her father was, Allison asked about the weather in Fairview and if he had been seeing anyone. It was light-hearted and the old friends, as tired as they were, opened up like used books for one another and spilled bits and pieces into the stale air. When Derek looked down at his watch he sighed and flicked Allison's hand playfully, "It's almost five in the morning, go to bed," he smirked and she rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, I have to be up in a couple hours. I'll probably have to bang on Stilinski's door to wake him up if Raleigh wants him in simulation at eight," her words were slurred through a yawn.  


The exhausted combat specialist stood and cracked her neck before she mumbled 'see you in a few hours' and turned to walk towards the elevator. Derek blinked and tapped his fingers on the sides of his coffee cup, "Allison," his voice was low and she looked over her shoulder at him, "that was Stiles wasn't it, the kid with you and Scott. That's the kid-"  


"He's not a kid, Derek," Allison was gentle with her words.  


Derek's jaw tightened and he looked away, "That's him though. That's who Raleigh called me out here for." Allison nodded and Derek listened to her sigh as he stared blankly into the coffee cup gripped between his hands.  


"You have to let it go," Allison's words cut the air like a knife and Derek's lips pursed into a thin line as the sound of his old friends feet against the ground became distant and faded.  


Derek didn't say anything as she walked away, he just sat at the cold table in the empty cafeteria until his eyes trailed across the War Clock settled above the double doors that led to the east hangar. He watched the seconds turn to minutes and waited for the tightness in his chest to subside.  


\------------------------------  


Stiles was awake when the sound of Allison's knuckles rapped on the metal door. He was sitting on his bed with his fingers pressed against his temples and when he heard her voice call from the hall he swallowed a shaky breath, "I'm up, I'm just... hold on." His body was sore, his head was pounding and when he finally pushed himself up off the bed and opened the door, it was a relief to see Allison standing with a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of Excedrin in the other. 

"You're a fucking angel sent from the heavens, Allison Argent," Stiles' voice was raspy from the yell-talking in the bar last night and the pilot wore his lack of sleep like a badge, dark circles staining the soft skin beneath his glasses. 

Allison rolled her eyes, "Well, I won't argue with you on that. You need to eat before simulation so let's go," she shoved her shoulder in the direction of the stair case and Stiles stuck his bottom lip out when she pulled on his arm and started dragging him, "Oh, come on!"  


They ate and they laughed, reminisced on the night before. Stiles talked about how nice it was to meet everyone and Allison warmly chimed that he fit right in and she was glad Raleigh had chosen him. It was exhilarating to feel like Stiles was a part of something more than just the Jaeger program and his stomach fluttered gently. She scoffed when Stiles tried to thank her and he laughed when she rolled her eyes at his attempt to compliment her on how beautiful she looked. 

"I usually don't have the chance to get dolled up anymore," Allison shrugged and Stiles nodded, "Yeah, neither do I. Not like anyone here is going to be interested in a lanky college kid with nothing on his side except sarcasm." 

She choked on her juice and he stuck his tongue between his teeth when she croaked out a laugh, "Shut up! You're gorgeous, any guy here would fall over himself to get a chance to roll around with you."  


Heat rose into the apple of Stiles' cheeks and he shoved a spoon full of oatmeal into his mouth, "That obvious, huh?" 

He lifted his eyes to look at her and she shook her head, "No, no, I just... My best friend, he liked guys and you would have never known it by looking at him. You're the same way, I just noticed that you never take a second glance at any of the women here." 

Stiles raised and eyebrow and winked playfully, "Well, you know-"  


"You know what?" Scott's voice was light as he took a seat next to Allison and saluted Stiles with two fingers. Stiles smiled down at his food when Scott leaned over and pressed his lips gingerly against Allison's cheek, "Nothing, man. Just talking about my lack of interest in the female gender, that's all." 

Scott rolled his eyes, "Ah, yes. Allison always has a tendency to make her friends... friends... come out..." his words trailed off and Stiles watched as Scott's eyes disappeared. He stared over Stiles' shoulder, an unblinking gaze paired with parted lips and flushed cheeks. He looked nervous, mentally checked out of the conversation, like he had seen a ghost. Allison said nothing, she just glanced up and blinked a few times before she shook her head and turned her attention back to the plate of food in front of her.  


Amber eyes narrowed and Stiles turned to look over his shoulder, "Scott are you..." his voice also faltered when he found the reason behind Scott's sudden dishevelment. Derek leaned against the far wall of the large room, his arms settled across his chest. Stiles' breath caught and he let his eyes trail across the body that stood far away from them. The sound of Allison inhaling sharply pulled his gaze back and he fumbled over a few words as Scott stumbled out of his seat and paced across the room. 

"Shit..." Allison kept her eyes on the two men, watched as Scott walked in front of Derek with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Stiles felt as if he had been thrust into the middle of a situation he really had no place being a part of, but curiosity gnawed at him like a starving animal and he tried to be subtle as he let his eyes creep over his shoulder. He saw Derek's mouth move and tried not be transfixed on the way the pilot's jaw tightened and relaxed. He was nervous, not only for Allison but nervous because he knew the name. Derek. He had heard it before, years ago, and something about it made his thoughts scream and claw behind his eyes.  


"Oh, thank god," Allison's voice shook and she let out a long breath, one that she had apparently been holding since Scott had left the table. Scott pulled Derek into a tight hug before stepping back and setting his hand against the pilots arm. Stiles hadn't seen Derek smile until then and when he did it felt like a knife was being shoved into his abdomen, sharp and warm. It caught him completely off-guard.  


"So, uh... Who is? I don't really know what is, uh. What the fuck is going on," Stiles blinked at Allison, who had slouched in her chair and shook her head back and forth. As completely unfair as it felt to try and pry into their lives, Stiles felt like he had to in order to understand any of them. They were all so close, with history and damage. He wanted to know that history, to process that damage. 

It was the first time in years that Stiles wanted to go out of his way to learn something other than literature or a foreign language; he wanted to learn these people, to study them, piece them together and fall into them without any reserve. His bottom lip rolled between his teeth, tired eyes watching Allison as she finally turned her attention back to him, "It's a really long story, Stiles." 

His stomach immediately dropped when he heard the morose tone cradled in her voice and he looked down at the table, "Oh, no, yeah of course. I'm sorry, I-"  


"No, it's fine. It's just... complicated. I'm sure you'll be tuned into everything soon enough," she watched Stiles as he stole glances over his shoulder and when he finally caught her smiling at him with her eyebrows raised, the beta stammered, "So, yeah. Uhm, okay. Simulation, let's- let's go do that-"  


"Derek Hale," Allison's words were quiet and Stiles couldn't stop the heat from rising to his cheeks, "That's his name. The Alpha, the one Raleigh called for you?" She was careful as she edged forward, words slow and steady. The combat specialist eyed him and Stiles nodded, trying to contain the anxiety now circulating from his toes to his fingertips. "Well..." she shrugged and gestured to the man across the room, whose eyes raked across Stiles momentarily, "that's him." 

Stiles pulled his glasses from the bridge of his nose and set them on the table before he started fidgeting with his nail beds. His heart pounded, a sick nervousness spilling out over his organs.  


Something about Derek made Stiles incredibly uneasy, whether it was his status or the fact that he had major history with the people who had taken him in under their wing, he didn't know. The pilot pushed his plate away and glanced up at Allison who still had her eyes fixed on him, "Looks like they're going to take a look at the Jaegers." Stiles glanced over his shoulder again to watch Scott and Derek descend into the hangar and when he turned his eyes back to Allison she tilted her head to the side, "You're not over-whelming me with a bunch of questions and honestly, that's what I expected."  


Stiles ran his fingers through his hair and sighed when he set his glasses back on his nose, "What is there to ask? He was a big part of your life, that's obvious. We don't even know if we'll be compatible, so why worry about the rest. The only thing I'd like to know is a little bit about his history, like how exactly he's an Alpha with no co-pilot of his own." 

The bite at the end of his words made Allison fix her gaze on the table as she lifted her cup to her lips and took a short sip. He knew that in the end, no matter what he tried to pry out of Allison, she wasn't going to spill information that wasn't hers to give but when she looked up and saw his teeth set tight together her face softened, "Stiles, that's not something-"  


"I know," Stiles breathed, nodding at her from across the table. She visibly relaxed, her eyes closed and she mumbled that it wasn't her story to tell. He just nodded back at her and tried his best to not over-think the situation. He reminded himself over and over that the first person here that made him feel at ease in any way was Raleigh. He was Stiles' mentor, and he had to continuously tell himself that sometimes blind trust wasn't something to be avoided. He needed to trust Becket, swallow his pride, and not be a coward when it came to Derek Hale. Stiles inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. It was hard to ignore the knots suddenly becoming prominent in his stomach but as Allison stood and told Stiles it was time to start training, he pulled himself out of the erratic nerves enveloping his body and walked with her towards the stair case.  


It was one of the first times that it was completely silent between the two of them, Stiles was focused on clenching and unclenching his fists and Allison's eyes were far away as she thought about something from a time before the clock started ticking again. The quiet between them made Stiles uneasy, since last night when his eyes fell into the gaze of a piece of their direct history, him and Allison hadn't been the same. He felt jostled in the slight comfortability he had found and as they neared the end of the long hall way where the simulation room was hidden, Allison's phone rang. She answered and her pace slowed, nodding, "Stiles," she called gently when she noticed the pilot trailing ahead of her, "Yes. Yeah... No, I mean- No, I just. Do you think he's ready? I mean, shouldn't they- Yeah... No, you're right. Okay. Alright, see you in a couple minutes." Stiles blinked at her through the lenses of his glasses before he reached up and scratched the top of his head, "I'm guessing that was...?" 

She sighed and nodded along with his words, "Yes, that was Raleigh. It looks like he's warming Derek up right now so..." Allison's eyes trailed across Stiles as he swallowed and tilted his chin down to stare at his feet.  


It was difficult to process the emotions crawling around inside him, whether it was anger or fear, reserve or excitement, Stiles couldn't decide. His palms were sweating and he walked quickly to keep Allison from catching on to the tremble in his legs. Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth. Amber eyes darted around as they descended down the stairs and he tried to focus on nothing but the sound his boots made against the cold metal.  


He shoved his hands into his pockets to conceal the tremors that ran through them and took in a shaky breath when Allison pushed through the doors of the gymnasium. Stiles' voice came out strange and choked, "Oh, holy fucking hell..."  


Raleigh and Derek were sparring on the raised padded mat in the middle of the room. Allison couldn't help but laugh when Stiles started backtracking, the word 'no' slipping over his lips again and again before she reached out and tugged firmly on his wrist. "Don't be a big baby, you've seen it before-"  


"No! No, I have not! It's like watching two Greek gods punch each other, this is ridiculous, no-"  


"Stiles!" Raleigh's voice broke through his hushed complaints and he turned on his heels, fumbling to catch his glasses when they almost toppled off his face. His mentors chest heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breath and Derek stood beside him, shoulders rising and falling. Stiles cleared his throat before he threw a venomous glare towards Allison out of the corner of his eyes. He stepped forward, his feet scuffing across the ground as he neared the two men. "This is-"  


"Derek," his voice caught Stiles off-guard just as much as his smile had, it was low, soft, nothing to what Stiles had expected. He looked up, feigning as much strength as he possibly could when Derek's eyes crawled across him. "I know," Stiles' voice was surprisingly even and Raleigh arched a brow, "Do you? Well, then, to make this easier. Derek-" he gestured with one hand to Stiles, "Stiles, and Stiles," he gestured with the other, "Derek." 

The two pilots nodded and Stiles tried with all his might to keep himself from dissecting the colors muddled around the veteran's pupils. Derek was beautiful and he reminded Stiles of something that would be on display, something carved out of marble or stone. Something completely unreal. 

"You two," Raleigh waved his hand between them and pointed to the mat, "You know what comes next. Go on." Stiles' breath hitched before his eyes fell to his feet and he plucked his glasses from their home atop the bridge of his nose. Allison smiled at Stiles as she walked towards Derek, reaching up and tickling at the scruff on his cheek. Derek swatted at her hand and grumbled something under his breath that Stiles couldn't make out.  


"Stiles," Raleigh was at his side with a hand rested on his shoulder, "just do your thing. He'll do his. Don't be nervous, alright." Stiles wanted to laugh but he raised his brows and cracked his neck instead, "Oh yeah, definitely a fair fight," amber eyes watched Raleigh and the blonde smirked, "Never said it was, Stilinkski."  


Derek pushed Allison away gently as a coy smile payed across her lips, "Don't underestimate him," her words were quiet and she tilted her head to the side when the pilot rolled his eyes at her. He didn't say anything back, simply flicked his wrist and shooed her off the mat before his attention settled back on the lean boy who was currently handing Allison his glasses. Stiles stepped on the mat after directing a whispered 'wish me luck' to Allison who walked over to stand next to Raleigh.  


He didn't expect Derek to try and kick his feet out from underneath him, but when Stiles jumped and landed back on his feet it took the alpha by surprise. Derek's fist struck inches from his face and Stiles jolted his head to the side, taking in a sharp breath when he locked on to jungle eyes. Derek didn't hesitate and after three attempts, knocked Stiles to the ground. 

"One," his voice was quiet and Stiles gritted his teeth, swinging a leg to slam against the back of Derek's knees causing him to buckle. Stiles' foot hit his chest and Derek fell back, "One for one," Stiles hissed, pacing back and forth in front of the startled pilot at his feet. It went on like that for a while, Derek knocking Stiles back, Stiles knocking Derek back, Stiles dodging, Derek smirking. 

"You're quick," Derek muttered, twisting the beta's arm until it bent back and Stiles fell to his knees with a yelp. 

"I'm a lot of things," his breathy words made Derek hesitate and Stiles flipped, knocking Derek to his back with his foot over his throat, "Where were we, big guy? Five for five?"  


Stiles couldn't decide whether it was fear or pride driving him, but the adrenaline seeping into his veins masked any other emotion at this point. His body was warm, eyes focused, and his heart pounded excruciatingly against his rib cage. Derek's eyes narrowed dangerously and he grabbed Stiles by the ankle, slamming him down against the mat. Derek snatched one of his wrists and pinned it above his head as calloused fingers wrapped around Stiles' throat, "Six for five." 

Stiles didn't move. He didn't fight back or squirm or say a god damn thing. His chest rose and fell as he submitted underneath the alpha hovering above him. Stiles' eyes lingered across his face, from his sharp jaw, to the scratch of the stubble on his cheeks, down to the straight line of his nose and the up-right curve of his eyes. When Raleigh had tried to explain what it would be like to find his co-pilot, he hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected something so incredibly out of his control, something menacingly unforgiving and breathtaking. It wasn't only that the wind had physically been knocked out of him, but when Derek blinked and his brows rose, Stiles couldn't help by smile. 

"You okay?" Derek whispered, uncurling his fingers from around Stiles' throat who reached up to rub at the sore area, "Yeah. No, I'm fine." Honey eyes stayed glued to Derek who sat back on his heels and turned his attention to Raleigh who had his hand pressed across his mouth. His eyes were scrunched and he tilted his head to the side, heaving a long sigh, "Get geared for simulation."  


Allison's head turned quickly and dark curls swayed around her shoulders, "You're serious?! They've only sparred once and-"  


"You're telling me you need to see more?" Raleigh stepped up on to the mat and reached down to take Stiles' hand, hoisting him to his feet. Confusion played across Stiles' face like a symphony as his eyes darted back and forth between Allison and Raleigh. 

The knots in his stomach suddenly became prevalent and his anxiety began to once again wash over him in waves, "W-wait, I mean, I'm not saying we aren't compatible because-" he laughed through the last word, holding his index finger up to Raleigh, "but don't you think-"  


"When you know, you know."  


It was a feminine voice that echoed in the gymnasium and Derek nodded, lips pulling up into a small smile as his eyes lidded closed. A warm hand draped across his shoulder and Mako's small lips curled upwards, "My wolf," her words were gentle and she turned to set soft palms on either side of his face, "I didn't think I would see you again." 

Derek made her look frail and small as she stood before him and he reached up to grip her fingers, "I'm sorry." It was all he said before she stroked her thumb across his face, "I know." 

The room fell silent, Raleigh watched them with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and Stiles looked towards Allison whose eyes were glossy and darted around to keep her tears in check. Mako turned to look at Stiles and the wisdom behind her eyes made him shudder, "You," her voice was sharp and Stiles fidgeted nervously with his glasses, "I was wrong about you. And you," she looked to Derek and raised a brow, "I was wrong about you too." 

Stiles exhaled a shaky breath and tried to cover it with a small chuckle, "Yeah, well, people are wrong about me all the time so..." he watched her while his words faded and she nodded as she walked over to stand at Raleigh's side. 

"People are wrong about a lot of things," she turned her eyes up to her co-pilot who snaked an arm around her waist, lips splitting into a smile, "and when you know you know," he mumbled, eyes peeking down at Mako who brushed her fingers gingerly across the top of his hand.  


It was strange to see them together. They were fierce and delicate, one complete being, and the sight of them made Stiles yearn for that strength, for that bond. It was as if they breathed in time, moved in rhythm of each other and when Raleigh looked at Stiles and then trailed his eyes to Derek it was obvious that he had made the right decision. 

Derek's eyes were a color Stiles had never seen before and as the alpha stepped off the mat and walked passed him towards the door he felt something sink within him. 

"Take a break, we'll meet for simulation in an hour," Derek's voice was rough and he looked over his shoulder as he walked, brows arching when he glanced to Stiles, "You're tough, kid."  


Raleigh looked down at Mako and dug his fingers playfully into her side, "Told you," he mumbled, causing her to hiss and slap at his hand as she squirmed away from him. Allison wiped at her eyes with her fingers and Mako walked over to her to grip her arms gently. Stiles caught Allison muttering something about Derek being called 'wolf' and Mako was cooing lovingly at her, but his attention was snatched away by Raleigh, "I knew it." 

His voice was husky and rough, like always, "I knew that you and Derek would be good together. You're techniques are really fluid," he paused and Stiles rolled his eyes, "Except for the part where he kicked my ass." 

Becket shook his head and bumped his shoulder against Stiles', "No, he didn't kick your ass. That's what was different, you found a balance. You just got," he paused and his brow rose, "a little, uh, distr-"  


Raleigh tried to mask his laughter and Stiles lips pursed together. "Don't," Stiles spat before he turned away and stalked towards the doors of the gymnasium, leaving Raleigh calling to him about not being late to simulation training and that he should drink a lot of water. 

Then the words that he had nearly forgotten came out of Becket's mouth and crashed down around him like a hurricane. "You guys will be in drift for the first time," Raleigh noticed Stiles stop in his tracks, saw his bony fingers curl into trembling fists at his sides. 

Stiles searched the ground for answers with his lips parted and a distinct burn itching inside his chest. Drift. It didn't always work, that's what he had been told. Only some people could drift with one another, and it was always different with each person. Each drift was different in general. Memories collided, emotions intertwined and two people merged into one mind. One incredible machine. Stiles' breathing was shaky and he jumped when Allison's hand rested on his back, "Hey, hey... Relax," her voice was calming, it had been since he met her, and as she rubbed his back he realized that he was going to have to share his life with a complete stranger within the next hour.  


"Take him to the garden, get him some water and let him calm down," steel blue eyes lingered over Stiles who shot a poisonous glare at Raleigh, "I'm fine," the pilot bit. Raleigh's eyes rolled and he scoffed, "You don't have to act all tough, I was fucking scared too. So was Derek when he first drifted. That's why we're doing a simulation, so you can get adjusted to each other's thought process and find a groove." 

Raleigh poked Stiles in the side of the head when he walked by, earning a growl and a string of curses from him as he disappeared through the door. Mako was close behind and she stopped momentarily to lift Stiles' chin with two fingers, dark eyes watching him carefully. Stiles swallowed and straightened his back as she opened her mouth, "Don't chase the rabbit." Her words were chilling and all Stiles could manage to do was nod as her lithe figure slinked through the door and down the hallway.  


\------------------------------  


Stiles was completely unprepared for the exquisite gem hidden on the fifth floor and he was even more unprepared for Allison to call Scott and have him meet them there. "They wanted the pilots to have a zen area, somewhere to escape when things got," Scott paused and searched for an appropriate word, "hard." He wasn't the most eloquent guy Stiles had ever met, but he was the most honest and Stiles appreciated that more than anything.  


The entire area inside was lush and over-grown with exotic plants. Mist hung in the air to keep their leaves damp and ceiling fans circulated above to keep the room well filtered with cool air. Lillie's lined the back wall, and rose bushes tangled themselves against potted plants on the floor. There were small benches set throughout the room, a few were settled against a couple fishtail palms and the others were strewn throughout the bricked boxes of orchids and lilacs. Ferns hung from the ceiling on long chains and a large crooked tree sat in the middle of the room. Stiles' gaze absently fell across the moss growing up its trunk and couldn't help but think of Derek's eyes. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, "Yeah, well, I can imagine things would be a little stressful when you're trying to beat an alien to death while simultaneously not letting your co-pilot's memories get in the way of, you know, the violence," he flailed his hands in the air, earning a laugh from Scott who sat back and idly ran his finger across the petal of an oriental lily. 

"You're gonna be fine," Scott mumbled as he looked over to Stiles, "I know I don't know you that well yet but you seem pretty grounded and Derek, he's," Scott paused and smirked. "Derek is interesting. He's been through a lot and he's seen a lot of things and I'm not gonna lie, drifting with him is going to be... intense," Stiles looked at the ground as he listened to the engineer, "but you two apparently did well in combat, so..."  


Stiles could tell that Scott was running out of ways to make him feel better about the situation and as he rested his elbows on his knees and tapped his feet against the damp ground of the green house, Stiles found himself lost in the thought of sharing a consciousness. Scott had stood to go join Allison at the far end of the garden where she ran her hands over bushels of tiny pink flowers and Stiles couldn't help but smile when they looked at each other. He thought about his father, about Danny and school and his normal day to day routine back at Brown that seemed so mundane compared to his life now. His mind buzzed and the ringing in his ears made his head ache. The hour went be faster than Stiles had wanted it too and when Allison and Scott stood in front of him, he looked up and tried to smile, "Anything I should know before I do this?"  


Both of them went rigid and Scott scratched nervously at the back of his neck while Allison turned her eyes towards the glass door leading out into the hall. "Raleigh will fill you in on what to expect," it was Scott who spoke and when Stiles pushed himself to his feet they started the walk to the simulation room.  


They spoke on the way, Stiles mumbling questions about things like old memories and whether or not he should resist with some things or just try to pretend like it was a dream for most of it. Allison and Scott both replied that it would probably be best if he didn't resist, but cautioned him on relaxing too far into the fog due to the ability to get trapped in a string of memories. His heart pounded and Stiles dug blunt fingernails into the flesh of his palm, debating whether or not now would be another appropriate time to pray to the god that had abandoned them.  


Derek was standing outside the room when they approached and Raleigh was across from him. They spoke quietly, mumbling things to one another as Becket hung his head and reached out to grip Derek's shoulder. Stiles could tell it wasn't a conversation he should interrupt, but Scott thought other wise. 

"Hey, so, you guys might want to like fill him in on some stuff before the whole," Scott made some sort of gesture with his hands between Derek and Stiles, "you know, fusion and flooding-"  


"Scott," Derek's voice was pointed and Stiles flinched when he heard the sound of the mans teeth clank together. Scott blinked as Allison took him by the arm and curled her fingers in a wave to Stiles, a hushed 'good luck' slipping from under her breath as they left to walk back down the hall. Stiles was shaking, his arms, his legs, everything was shaking, and the last thing he needed was a veteran pilot catching on to his fear. So he straightened his back, breathed as evenly as he could and set his eyes on Raleigh, "What do I need to know?" 

The question was direct and Raleigh shuffled his feet to stare at the ground before biting down again and again on the inside of his cheek. "It's not that you need to know anything, Stiles," his mentor sighed, "It's a double edged sword, if I explain things about Derek to you and explain things about you to Derek it could hurt the process. One of you could be over-thinking it in drift and get harnessed." Stiles blinked a few times and shoved his hands in the pockets of the maroon pants he was wearing, "Harnessed?"  


Derek cleared his throat, "Stuck. If we know too much about each other we could get stuck in the memory. It's a possibility that could happen anyways but it's better to go at it from a clean slate than to go in expecting to find something." 

Stiles nodded, it made sense but going in blind made him more uneasy than he had expected. Amber eyes brushed across Derek's hands and up his arms until he caught himself trapped between two bright green rings blinking across at him. They were both exhausted, Stiles from his night out and the combat session not too long ago, and Derek from the sixteen hour flight and the restless morning he had spent with Allison. 

"So," Raleigh looked at both of them and turned, waving a hand, "let's get started."  


Stiles felt every bone in his body start to vibrate when Raleigh locked him into the metal limbs. He strained his eyes and took in breath after breath to try and slow the rapid beating of his heart. This was it. This was what being a Jaeger pilot was at it's core, a bond, a relationship between two minds that synced like a computer. He was trying in every aspect to keep himself as calm as he could and when he caught the glimpse of Derek wincing as Raleigh latched the steel backing against his spine, it shamefully made Stiles feel more human. 

"I don't even know you and I'm really sorry that Raleigh called you out here for me," Stiles didn't know why he let the words escape, but when the door slid closed behind Raleigh, the words came rushing out, "We literally just met two hours ago and now I'm going to be in your head, and fuck, man. I know you've done this before but I'm not-"  


"Stiles," he froze when Derek said his name and looked over to him as the lights dimmed in the stark white room, "I need you to listen to me the whole time. Relax. And listen." 

Stiles swallowed and bit down on his bottom lip, "O-okay," he called out to the darkness and looked through the shield of his helmet before red letters began to flash across the interface. Raleigh's voice came over the speaker and asked them if they were ready. Derek looked over to Stiles who looked back at him and Stiles tried to nod, "Yeah," Derek didn't stop looking at him as he spoke, just kept nodding at Stiles who looked like he was a baby bird who had fallen from his mothers nest. Honey eyes blinked and he opened his mouth to protest, to ask for a minute, just to squeak out a 'wait' but it was two late and he choked.  


**Left Hemisphere Initiated  
**

It started in his spine, the drift. It felt like a kind of heat he had never felt before and it rose agonizingly slow. His legs tried to buckle but the metal locking held him in place and Stiles gasped as the fire infiltrated his lungs and scorched his throat. It was like nothing he had felt before and he instantly wanted it to end, "Fuck, what the fuck," he tried to breath and he tried to listen to what Derek was yelling to him but his mind was too busy putting its efforts into exterminating the foreign body currently prodding at his nerve endings. Finally it hit the base of his neck and his eyes, which had been painfully squeezed shut, flew open.  


The burn was gone but all he could see was white, like static behind his eyes. He could feel himself blinking again and again but the sheet didn't fade. "Stiles!" He could hear Derek in the distance, as if he was screaming to him from across a football field. The new pilot tried to speak but his throat constricted, so instead of putting his effort into speech he reminded himself to breath and sucked in air until he felt like he was going to pass out.  


**Right Hemisphere Initiated  
**

Stiles could hear the robotic voice in the speaker of his helmet and as the last word was uttered he felt a jolt spark into the back of his neck. The heat was back and he tried not to whimper when it seared between his temples. He wanted to crumble, to fall to the floor of the room and stay there for hours. He wanted to dive into a pool of ice and never come to the surface. It wasn't even pain, it was pressure and heat, and his mind knew that it was being invaded which made him naturally resistant to the process.  


**Neural Bridge Active in 3... 2... 1...  
**

The pain was gone. Just the fog and a white flash, until he was crashing, falling. His body was somewhere else and he felt infinitely small where ever he had gone. Stiles tried to breathe but it almost felt as though he had forgotten how. And then it happened.  


A face. Places. Schools. Friends. It pulled him in like a tornado and twisted him again and again. A pretty girl with dark hair and dark eyes, a woman, tall and unconventionally beautiful. Words, so many words. Stiles finally breathed, sucking in air and shaking when he exhaled. Trees, beautiful tall trees and a pain all too familiar to him. The memories felt like cars slamming into him again and again and Stiles was having more than a hard time keeping a hold of each one. He could hear Derek's ragged breath and his desperate plea, "Stiles, don't," but his face was already there. Soft, with a square jaw and eyes the color of water. More laughter. He recognized the laugh, Allison, then another, Isaac. A few voices were unrecognizable, names he didn't know, places he hadn't been. His mind immediately latched to the ones he knew and it made the memory sharp and clear. Stiles took in a short breath, and squirmed against the locks that held him down as he drifted deeper and deeper.  


"Jackson!"  


That was his name, and it was Derek shouting it. His heart was racing, anxiety, fear, anger, adrenaline, it was all there and Stiles had no idea what was his and what was Derek's and what was left-over from the memory. "You need to hold on, Jackson, don't you fucking do this to me," Stiles' eyes filled with tears and he didn't try to control them as they slid down his cheeks. He could feel it, every bit of it. Every stitch of emotion Derek had felt when... Stiles audibly choked on a sob when he heard the strangers voice whisper something about a woman named Lydia. "C'mon, we're gonna get you out of here," he could see the man's face, Derek's co-pilot. Derek was crying. Jackson was crying. The mans chest was concaved with blue matter, sand, ocean water. Stiles tried to focus. Kaiju blue. It was peppered across Derek's forearms. The scars. Those scars. Stiles felt something stab into his gut and he bit down on his lip to keep quiet. It felt like someone had shoved their hand inside of him and twisted, pulled, gnawed on the bottom of his ribs. Stiles cried. He cried and tried to open his mouth to say something but there were no words, and once again he had to remind himself to breathe.  


"Stiles!" Derek's voice.  


The tears burnt and he tasted salt.  


"Stiles, come back!" His voice again, feigning strength of his own.  


Derek was trying to swim through Stiles' memories. To find him. To get to him. But Stiles was too complicated to make that easy. His memories surrounded him like moving pictures in a scrapbook, the first person he kissed was a girl, a pretty girl in eighth grade, and it was a peck on the lips. His second kiss was with a boy and it was his freshman year, a real kiss, a deep, long, sensual kiss that left Derek breathless in his mind. But the words that came after caught him like a fish on a hook, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry about her. Claudia... She was-"  


The pain hit and it too was familiar. An ache, a rip. Something completely out of the ordinary. Derek blinked and shook his head, calling to Stiles again and again with no answer. He had more control, he had to keep telling himself that in order to get to him. But something stopped the seasoned pilot dead in his tracks and it sent Derek's heart into a frenzy. "Code blue!" The words rang out between his ears like a siren and Derek felt his legs running even though he was grounded in place. His lungs heaved. His finger tips were numb. "Get him out of here!" It was a woman. Her outfit was yellow. She was wearing... She had on a mask. A nurse. She was a nurse. It was like the flood gates had been opened after Derek put two and two together and suddenly he was staring down at white floors and the air smelt like antiseptic and ace bandages. "We're losing her!" He could hear it. The machines. The noises they made were almost as frantic as his voice. He could hear Stiles. Hear him crying. Screaming. "M-mom, mom! C'mon, do something!" He was screaming. His hands were sweating and he had his phone pressed to his ear, stumbling over his tears and leaving voice mail after voice mail for a father that never did end up making it there that day.  


Derek was clawing at the outside of the memory, digging at it, trying desperately to escape but the sound of the flat line instantly made him drop. He could feel it in his knees, when Stiles had fallen to the floor and Derek wasn't ashamed when tears stung at his eyes. The memory was prominent and it's strength took the breath away from Derek.  


"Derek..." Stiles' voice was weak and worn but Derek followed it, calling back.  


More memories. Stiles getting accepted to Brown. His father drinking. Danny. So many different voices, so many different languages. It was hard to decipher what was what but finally he broke through. It felt like he had been drowning and was sucking in his first breath of fresh air.  


"Stiles! Look at me!" Derek snapped his head to the side, heaving in breath after breath, the relief of escaping the memory flooding through him.  


Stiles could hear him, but his mind was still jostled. Something about a fire. Jackson. The Kaiju. A woman who had hair like flames. Allison. "You're my best friend," her sing song voice rang out and it gave Stiles a small sense of comfort.  


Derek could hear Raleigh talking calmly through the speaker. Get him back. It's all he kept saying and the alpha was doing the best he could.

"Stiles, I need you to focus on my voice. I need you to turn your head and look at me," Derek spoke slowly, firmly and grinded his teeth together when he didn't get a response. "Raleigh! He's chasing, I think he's harnessed-"  


"Get him back," the rough voice was short and Derek's eyes rolled as he tried to concentrate. His mind ached from trying to bridge with Stiles, but he closed his eyes and breathed again, "Stiles!"  


Stiles heard him once more and as he peered through the tall trees in the forest in some rainy state, he reminded himself to breath. "Come back!" His voice again. "Kid! Wake the fuck-"  


Stiles gasped, wincing when he blinked and he twisted his head to stare over at Derek whose expression softened and eyes lidded in instant relief. When he opened them Stiles was still watching him, and they stayed like that for a moment, searching for some kind of answer to what both of them had just seen. 

"You with me?" Derek's voice was shaky but he moved the shaft of the arm forward and Stiles matched his movement, nodding, "I'm with you."  


They were exhausted through the rest of the simulation and Stiles flinched when the hologram of mangled teeth and blue liquid crashed down in front of him. His fear subsided, Derek's confidence washing over him. Left. Right. Dodge. He could feel it in his fingertips, in his toes, the way the Jaeger moved, the way Derek's body moved. Finally when the Kaiju fell and the words -simulation complete- flashed across the screen, Stiles took the time to inhale through his nose and exhale through his mouth.  


When they pulled out of drift he was light headed and when the locks to his mock boots clicked open he stumbled into the pillar behind him. Derek hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder, green eyes prying at Stiles, "Hey, you okay?" Stiles lifted his eyes and nodded when he tried to steady himself, but once again they stood stationary and looked at each other. It was strange to think that they had just spent time re-living each others memories, fighting them, battling their own demons and each others. Stiles felt like he suddenly knew Derek better than most people, but he wasn't naive enough to truly believe that. 

"I'm sorry," the words were rushed under Stiles' breath but Derek didn't seem to notice them.  


Raleigh opened the doors and was at their side quicker than Stiles had expected him to be. "We almost lost you," his voice was warm and he smiled at Stiles whose eyes were heavy and whose body and mind were completely drained. 

"Sorry about that," Stiles' voice was raspy and he cleared his throat, reaching up to touch two fingers to the moisture on his cheek. He looked to Derek and swallowed when he saw the remnants of tears across the alpha's face as well. 

"It happens, I'm just glad he got you back. You guys did better than I expected for your first run, usually no one actually fights after the innitial drift," Raleigh patted Stiles on the back and glanced at Derek who nodded slowly, "Derek's done this more times than he can count so don't worry about it, you did good." Stiles didn't care much for talking or hearing about how bad or good he had done. All he wanted at this point was either a place where he could sleep or a place where he could talk to Derek privately about what had just gone on in his head.  


The memories still stung and when Derek's eyes blinked at him Stiles couldn't help but look away. Raleigh guided them into the hall and told them to relax the rest of the day and to get something to eat. Stiles wrinkled his nose in protest but Derek shrugged, "I know, it sounds like the last thing you want to do but you need to get something in your system." 

Stiles nodded sheepishly and strained his eyes when he pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. Raleigh had scheduled them for training in the morning, dual combat and another simulation, but Stiles didn't know whether he was ready to be back inside Derek's head or not. The beta flinched when he looked to the end of the hall and saw the elevator doors close in front of Raleigh. 

"You’re claustrophobic," Derek's voice was gentle and slow but none-the-less heat rose into Stiles' cheeks and he stammered over his words, "Y-yeah, since my-"  


"I know," Derek tried to politely interrupt but Stiles still bit at his nails nervously. 

"So... I guess, food, sleep? I'd prefer sleep but if you think I should eat then I'll take your word for it," Stiles tilted his head to the side, cracking his neck and sighing as his mind finally started to calm down. 

"The first few minutes out of drift are weird," Derek mumbled, but he shoved his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants and gestured with his chin towards the stairs, "text Allison and Scott. We'll grab Isaac on the way and go out for fish."  


Stiles narrowed his eyes when Derek walked away but he complied and slid his phone out of his pocket to send a few quick texts. It was obvious that Derek was avoiding being alone with him, and that was for good reason because if Stiles did have him alone he wouldn't be able to help questioning the experience they had just shared. Stiles sighed while he paced to catch up to him and tried to shove the thoughts to the back of his mind. He couldn't blame Derek for his reserve, Stiles had reservations of his own, but for some reason the beta couldn't help but want to dance with the skeletons in Derek's closet.


	5. Chapter Five

Isaac didn't seemed surprised when Derek walked through the door of his office without hesitation. The doctor was seated at his desk and his eyes darted across a few messy stacks of paper work. He looked up and smirked when he saw Derek standing with his arms folded over his chest. 

"Derek Hale," Isaac's voice was sultry and he lifted a brow when the alpha rolled his eyes, "I have to say, I didn't think I would ever see you around here again." There was something in his voice that made Stiles look at his feet and dig his thumbs into the pockets of his pants. It was pointed and bitter- his tone made Derek's jaw tighten, "Yeah, well, Raleigh needed me. We're going into the city, do you want to come?" 

Isaac tilted his chin up and pulled the sleeves of his white lab coat away, setting it on the back of his chair as he stood, "Raleigh needed you? How convenient." 

They watched each other as Stiles shuffled his well-worn boots against the floor. The tension in the room was uncomfortably high and the young ranger didn't quite know what to do, he cleared his throat awkwardly, "You know, I feel some animosity here so if you don't mind I'm just gonna go meet Allison and Scott-"

"No, no, I'll go," Isaac's voice wasn't any less bitter and his eyes stayed fixed on Derek who nodded slowly, "I'll go and we can all pretend like nothing happened, right? We can just go on as if the past nine months didn't affect a single person besides-"

"Isaac!" Derek's voice thundered and Stiles flinched, taking a step back, "We will discuss what happened later. Right now I am inviting you out for a drink and food, if you want to bitch at me then we can do it another time. Allison and Scott are outside waiting for us, are you coming or should I schedule a time when you can properly-"

"Don't sass me, Hale," Isaac spat before his eyes trailed across Stiles. The room grew quiet and Stiles tried not to stumble over his words as he scratched idly at the back of his head, "Well, uh, alrighty then... I am, uh, I'm just gonna, yeah, go now-" 

After a long pause Isaac lolled his head to the side and heaved an exaggerated sigh, "I'll go with you." 

It was all Dr. Lahey said before Derek nudged his shoulder towards the door.

Stiles tried to flip through the memories Derek had reluctantly shared with him but the only piece that stuck out was the flash of bright blue eyes, how they filled with tears and the echo of Derek pleading for a man named Jackson to hold on. The memory ached and when Stiles' eyes fluttered shut, he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

"Stiles," he blinked and took in a sharp breath when Derek tilted his head to the side and gazed back at him, "You okay?" 

The tinge of comfort in the older mans voice made Stiles look away as he swallowed, "Y-yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I just..." he shook his head and let a sigh fall over his lips. Derek squeezed his shoulder but was shoo'd out of the way as Isaac batted his hands in front of the rangers chest, "Let me look." 

Stiles hissed when a bright light flashed across his eyes and he tried to take a step backwards but Isaac gripped his arm, "No, no, stay still." The doctor plucked the glasses off of Stiles' nose which made the pilot strain his eyes and tilt his head away from the harsh flash light, "I'm just tired, can you get that thing out of my face." 

"Pupils are dilated, looks like you have some back-lash, Stiles," Isaac cleared his throat. 

Something stirred behind Stiles' rib cage before he took in a shaky breath, "Back-lash?" The beta mumbled a 'thank you' to Isaac when he handed him back his glasses and scuffed his feet against the ground as they started pacing towards the stair case. Derek trailed behind and tugged at the hem of his black shirt as they descended towards the open hangar doors, "It's something that happens after drift, a kind of scar, I guess." 

Stiles still couldn't comprehend how smooth his voice was.

"Is anything coming back? Is it your memories or is-"

"They're your memories," Stiles' voice was quiet and Derek looked away to try and find just about anything else in the room to set his eyes on besides the boy at his side. Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek and ran blunt nails across the flesh of his palm, "Are we going to talk about what we both just went through or is there some weird terminology against us, oh, I don't know, getting to know each other before we skip down memory lane again?" 

Derek's jaw tightened and his teeth gritted, "It's complicated."

"Yeah well so is French but I picked that up pretty..." his voice faded as he watched Isaac's brisk pace slow and halt in front of them. Something inside him screamed as he pulled his eyes to the woman standing in the doorway of the west exit. She had that Disney princess kind of beauty, with bright pink lips, doe eyes and perfectly curled strawberry ringlets hanging delicately passed her shoulders. 

Lydia

Stiles blinked again before he sucked in a sharp breath. That was her. The woman from his memories, the one with the soft laugh and pompous voice. 

The one that Jackson had spoken about.

He reached his hand up and rested it against the side of his head to try and soothe the ache that was now creeping from his temple down to the base of his neck. It was exhausting to try and search through memories that weren't his to begin with, none-the-less to attempt to do it in the shape he was in. "Back-lash, huh," Stiles mumbled but when he looked up the hair on the back of his neck rose. Lydia's heels tapped against the linoleum floor and her steady gaze raked across Derek like he was something far off in the distance that she could barely make out. Isaac followed her with his eyes as she brushed passed him and when Stiles opened his mouth to speak, a gasp replaced whatever words were about to grace the silence.

Lydia's open palm crashed against Derek's cheek and Stiles lifted a hand to cover his now gaping mouth. 

Isaac was at Lydia's side before she swung another slap in his direction and he caught her arm as hushed words attempted to dismantle her flustered growls. Stiles could see her shaking, he could see the tremors in her fingertips and he could almost feel the hatred brimming over her mascara coated eye lashes. The doctor wound his arms around her waist and pulled her back when she snapped her wrist and lunged her free arm at the un-moving pilot in front of her. Derek's eyes were focused on the ground and his fingers were curled into tight, shaking fists. Stiles trailed his eyes across the alphas face to the red mark that was blooming across his left cheek. He flinched behind his glasses and Stiles couldn't help but also point his gaze at the floor, peeking up only once when Isaac finally hauled Lydia away. The beta turned to watch them go and Isaac glanced over his shoulder to jut his chin towards the exit, giving the two pilots a clear signal to leave. 

Amber eyes flicked over at Derek who was still starring absently at the ground. His mouth was parted and Stiles felt a knot grow in his stomach as he watched the man try to catch his breath, "Derek," he tested the name and took a step forward, "are you-"  


"Yeah," his voice was rushed, "I'm fine." 

Stiles wanted nothing more than to ask what that was all about, to pry, to dive head first into Derek's past but the look on the other ranger’s face told him that now was not the time. The dark haired pilot took in a shaky breath, eyes fixed on the ground, "We're not discussing-"

"Derek," Stiles interrupted and his eyelids fell shut, teeth set together behind his lips. Derek finally lifted his gaze and watched Stiles as he shook his head back and forth and fidgeted with the rim of his glasses, "let's just go eat." 

Stiles didn't want to admit that he breathed a sigh of relief when Derek visibly relaxed, he didn't want to sit back and be comforted in the placid silence that was currently hovering above them. He wanted to scream and stomp his feet, to take the alpha by the shoulders and shake him back and forth. He didn't know whether it was the back-lash that stung at his mind or the persistent burn of curiosity that had his lips sealed shut but something bit at the weakness in his chest. The part that felt bad for Derek. Maybe it was how ridiculous he looked when he sported an expression of defeat or maybe it was that Stiles was familiar with the pain the other ranger had felt just moments prior. Either way, it wasn't the time or place to berate him about Lydia.

Green eyes peeked at him from under an array of thick lashes and Stiles pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, "C'mon," he mumbled while he watched Derek and pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose.

They walked through the busy hangar, Derek's vans squeaking every now and again when they scraped the polished floor. The light outside Shatterdome was bright and harsh but Stiles smiled warmly when he laid his eyes on Allison and Scott.

"Took you guys for-fucking-ever. Did you get lost or-" Scott was pushed lightly out of the way when Allison grasped Derek's chin between her index finger and thumb. She pulled gently so that he moved to the side and she shook her head when he mumbled that it was 'only expected.' The combat specialist grimaced when she saw the small red marks from Lydia's fingertips but his rugged five o'clock shadow concealed most of the hand-print. "It'll go away," he assured, pawing at Allison's tight grip on his chin. 

Scott tilted his head to the side and shot a smile over to Stiles who, once again, felt like he had been shoved into a situation that he knew nothing about. 

Lydia's face flashed behind amber eyes and Stiles winced as he swallowed a shaky breath. She had caused a storm in his mind that refused to be silenced. 

"Stiles?" It was Scott's voice and he shook his head, blinking over at him, "You alright?"

Derek cleared his throat, "He's got some back-lash." 

Allison whined playfully and reached over to squeeze Stiles' hand, "It'll go away in time. It usually only happens to stubborn rangers," she moved her eyes accusingly at Derek and wrinkled her nose. 

"Don't look at me like that," Derek muttered as he walked over to a sleek black Range Rover and opened the drivers side door. Scott shouted 'shotgun' over and over again and tugged annoyingly at the door handle until it unlocked. 

Stiles sat in the back with Allison and they jabbered about what her and Scott had been doing while they had been in simulation. Allison shrugged and explained a few things about Striker Eureka and that some kinks were being made to the T-16 Angel Wings. It was fascinating to listen to her speak, her enthusiasm was inspiring and Stiles loved that she could go on and on about the complexities of Jaeger technology, because he could listen to it for hours. Scott would chime in every now and then with small fillers about maneuvers or how the mech could compensate for it's ability to use 'speed bursts' to confuse the Kaiju. It was a lot, more than Stiles could comprehend, but it coaxed a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"You guys are gonna be in Lionheart, right? I've been doing some adjustments on her shoulder canons, they should be in tip top shape for whenever you two actually get to drop," Scott looked over the back of his seat to Stiles who lifted his shoulders and shook his head, "I think we're kind of jumping the gun here but-"

"Yeah," Derek's voice was firm as he looked across to Scott and shoved the car into park, "We'll be in Lionheart but we won't be on the field for at least a month, you know that." 

Stiles felt his heart beat accelerate and his eyes widened. They had gone through their hand to hand, they had simulated a drift sequence and successfully completed the test mission but it hadn't occurred to him that Derek Hale was now his co-pilot. Not completely. Not realistically. Somewhere in the back of his mind Stiles thought something was going to go horribly wrong and they would be back at square one, Derek would go back to wherever he came from- 

Oregon.

Trees. Beautiful trees. A city with gray skies, a town surrounded by streams, a house in the middle of the woods.

Fire.

Stiles was gasping and he scrambled to grip at Allison's hand when he heard her shout something to Derek. "What the fuck is this shit," he whined painfully as clear honey eyes squeezed shut. He could hear the drag of seat belts and he could feel Allison's soft hands gripping his trembling fingertips. 

More trees.

Smoke.

"Stiles!" 

It was Derek this time and he felt warmth when the back door on the passengers side swung open. Sunlight stung his eyes and he breathed out a sigh of relief when the ache in the center of his forehead dissipated. He slouched back in his seat with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling. "I-I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I have no idea... I don't..." Stiles couldn't keep the words from stumbling over his lips and he winced when he looked over and saw Allison's face. Her hands were shaking and she had them cupped across her mouth, "Are you okay...?" Her words were whispered when she finally let her hands fall and reach back over to touch Stiles' thigh. 

"Y-yeah, is this... Is it always like this," he turned to look at Derek who had his knees bent and was leaning against the open door. The alpha shook his head and breathed a soft sigh, "No, it's not always like this. Some people don't get back-lash, some get very little, others get more than they'd like." 

Stiles rolled his eyes, "I told you sleeping would have probably been a bett-"

"No," Derek shook his head, "Sleep just means nightmares. Trust me." 

Scott hopped out of the car, shut his door and walked over to peek his head through the space between Derek's arm and chest, "Don't be embarrassed. Derek's had a full on panic attack over back-lash before and- ow, okay, I'm sorry. I'm done, ow, please," Derek's fingers pinched at the soft skin on Scott's tricep and dragged him away. 

Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth.

Stiles cracked his knuckles and looked over to Allison who nodded back at him, "I haven't seen someone react to backlash like that in almost a year but... it will fade in time," she whispered through a small smile. He watched as she shifted closer to him and bit down on his bottom lip when she rubbed his shoulder gently, "Do not beat yourself up over this. You didn't get a lot of sleep, you've been through more mentally and," she paused as her eyes flicked to Derek who was still prodding at Scott outside the car, "emotionally than most people will go through in a lifetime. The drift is incredible but your mind isn't going to be able to process everything at once so Derek's memories are now cataloged in your frontal cortex." Her index finger poked between his eyebrows and Stiles nodded as he tried to capture all the information Allison was throwing at him, "It's only natural for your brain to analyze the foreign memories and when that happens some pilots get back-lash." 

Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek as his eyes moved from Allison to Scott and Derek, "That makes sense, I just... I'm-"

"He's scared too," her words were quiet and she nodded through them as her eyebrows pulled together, "remember that." 

\------------------------------

The restaurant that Scott insisted they ate at was settled on a street corner across from the harbors in downtown, it's walls were painted a deep red and the tables were simple with gold and white embellishments splashed across the backs of the creaky chairs.

Stiles was quiet, smiling and nodding along with whatever his friends were talking about. He didn't want to be trapped or to feel like he wasn't meant for this, but the more he thought back on the episode in the car it was almost inevitable. The only thing he could focus on was the short stabs of pain in his fingertips as he pulled and tugged at his nail beds, trying with all his might to soothe the anxiety rising and falling in his stomach. It was as if he had lost his balance and was about to topple over the edge of something far more terrifying than he had ever expected it to be. Drift had been explained to him, he had read about it, watched it, seen the rangers when they did interviews but he had never wondered if there was a chance it wouldn't work the way it was said to. 

Everything in life has a price, he just wasn't expecting this one to be so tolling. 

Someone's foot brushed against his and he lifted his eyes to meet Derek's gaze from the other side of the table. Jungle eyes picked him apart and scraped him raw in the dimly lit and overly-crowded eatery, but Stiles didn't have the energy to look away or string together something sarcastic to say. Instead, he simply bumped the toe of his boot against his co-pilots shin. Derek raised his eyebrows and nodded as he sucked in a breath through his nose. Stiles narrowed his eyes but caught on when Derek tilted his chin down and inhaled again, a calm stare urging him on. He took in a deep breath through his nose, watching as Derek's mouth parted and he exhaled, following suit. It was unnerving to have someone he had just met this morning know something so intimate about him, to have a stranger know one of the only ways to calm him down. The dark haired pilot cleared his throat and Stiles jerked his eyes away, curling his nails into his palms when he realized he hadn't looked away from the mans lips.

"Oh my god, Stiles, you can speak Chinese, right?" Scott bounced up and down in his chair and Stiles pushed his glasses up, "Yeah," he laughed gently, "Yeah, Scott, I can speak Chinese. Technically it's Mandarin but yes, I can." 

The tense cluster of nerves that had been settled in the middle of his chest had started to subside as Scott rambled about how awesome it was that he knew so many languages and how much they needed someone like him at Shatterdome. Stiles shook his head, "I was going to be a translator before I came here," he mumbled against the side of a small teacup, "but you know, sometimes life throws something at you that you just can't resist." 

Allison smiled over at Scott, "I know the feeling," she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. 

Scott flashed a toothy grin, "I am irresistible." 

Stiles let his fingertips crawl across the patterns on the laminated menu in front of him, pointing when the waitress appeared at his side, "柑橘鸡，请。荷兰豆和蜂蜜为好。谢谢." 

The woman nodded and walked around to Allison who ordered a small salad and some type of raw fish, Scott who simply pointed at a picture on the menu and said 'that' and to Derek who politely ordered some kind of goat and sweet bread. 

They ate quietly, Allison asking Stiles a question about his school every once in a while and Scott inquiring about Danny when his old room mate was mentioned. Stiles felt his stomach sink when he thought about his best friend back on campus and he swallowed a piece of the citrus chicken on his plate. "I miss my friends," Stiles whined playfully as he pushed out his bottom lip and Scott rocked into his shoulder gently, "Yeah, yeah, well you have us now and it isn't like you can't keep in touch. I still stay in contact with a few of my friends back home, too." Allison nodded, "I didn't really have many friends but when I got here I met Derek," she smiled over at the ranger whose lips curled gently, "and then I met Lydia and..." her voice faded and she turned her eyes to the table. 

The white elephant that had been roaming around Shatterdome was now standing in the corner of the tiny sea-side restaurant and Stiles gritted his teeth, "Jackson, right?" 

Three pairs of eyes locked on to him immediately and Allison's mouth dropped open when the name was finally spoken aloud. Scott took in a rushed breath and busied himself with his food as Allison stammered to try and find something to say. Derek peered at Stiles and he sat back in his chair, nostrils flaring, "Yeah, Stiles," the way Derek said his name made him immediately regret his insistent need to be brave, "Lydia and Jackson were married." 

Stiles plucked the glasses from his face and set them on the table as his teeth gnawed on the soft flesh of his bottom lip, "Makes sense now," he mumbled, more to himself than anything else. 

Derek nodded but he didn't look at Stiles and Stiles didn't look at him, they just bumped their feet against each other underneath the table. 

Before Stiles could register whether Derek was trying to tell him it was alright, or give him some other kind of hidden message, a ring came from the small purse hung over the back of Allison's chair. 

"Hello..." there was a long pause and Allison pushed her plate away, eyes darting up to Derek, "We're coming. We're coming now. Striker, is she? Yeah, no, the repairs are done. No! We're on our way... Just, Raleigh... No, I want to see-" A growl rumbled in her throat as she shoved the phone back in her purse and slung the strap over her shoulder. 

Scott threw a few bills in the center of the table.

"Category five, they're sending Striker," Allison took in a shaky breath and Scott rubbed her back reassuringly as they all climbed quickly into Derek's car. The two field specialists sat in the back and Stiles tried to catch up to the situation in his mind as Derek swerved around cars and blew through red lights on the busy streets of Hong Kong. 

"They'll be fine, they're always fine," Scott whispered softly as he pulled Allison into his chest.

Stiles reclined his seat and turned to face them and watched his combat trainer stare wide-eyed out the window, "Allison," he said her name gently and she raised her eyes to blink back at him, "they're coming back." 

He didn't know why he felt the need to reassure her, or to reassure Scott or even himself, but something inside him said it wouldn't be right unless he did. It wouldn't feel right unless he did. His own heart was twisting behind his ribs and he could feel his nerves vibrating on the inside of his knee caps and elbows. This was a situation he had not prepared himself for and it was apparent that even if he had tried, nothing could have softened the blow. 

Boyd and Erica were about to go to war. His friends were about to climb into a machine, walk into the middle of the ocean and battle a Kaiju. His hands shook as he reached up and grabbed his glasses to clean them with the tail of his shirt. It didn't seem real, none of it did. The entire day had been a blur and Stiles half-expected to simply wake up in his bed with Allison knocking at his door telling him that it was time for breakfast. He wouldn't find a partner. Derek wouldn't exist. He would be told to go back to Brown and he would live the normal life he had built for himself. The life that he had almost forgotten about over the passed few weeks. 

But he didn't wake up and Stiles closed his eyes as he inhaled a trembling breath.

The car stopped and Derek was the first one to get out. Stiles was next with Scott and Allison following close behind. The hangar doors were open and helicopters circled above Shatterdome like vultures over a rotting carcass. The entire facility was alive and moving. Technicians checked every inch of Striker Eurkea as they prepared her for departure and as Allison ran passed Stiles and Derek she stumbled when the helmet to the giant Jaeger was lowered.  


"They're already... We didn't..." Her voice was choked and Stiles saw her lips start to shake. 

Scott ushered her quickly to the elvator, shouting over his shoulder to meet them in the control room. Derek looked to Stiles who nodded back at him and they climbed the four stories to the large windowed room. Chills ran up Stiles' spine as they walked quickly through the doors where Raleigh, Mako and the others were watching the many monitors lining the tall walls. 

"Erica!" Allison was shouting into a speaker, her hands cupped around the microphone. 

"Hey, baby girl! You gonna route for us out there?" Erica's voice echoed in the room and Allison's mouth shook and she lifted her hand to rest over her chest, "Of course," she breathed into the black cylinder, "You two kick some ass and..." her voice faded but Erica purred, "You know we will." 

Boyd was laughing in the background, "Category five, code name Tsume. We've got him right off the coast."

Mako snaked an arm around Allison and pulled her away from the microphone as she whispered that they were strong and to take a deep breath. Stiles stood next to Derek and Scott with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. He wanted to say something, to say that they made him feel welcome when he thought that he was an outcast and that if they didn't come back he didn't know what would happen. But instead he sealed his lips together and chewed anxiously on his cheeks until they were raw and sore. 

"Marshall Herc and Marshall Argent on deck," one of the workers stated loudly to the room as he opened the double doors for the two senior officers. Herc Hansen was tall and worn with old tattoos on his forearms and an aged leather jacket wrapped around his shoulders. A set of dog tags hung between his collar bones and they were almost identical to the ones that Raleigh also had around his neck.

He could only imagine what it was like to carry the weight of fallen soldiers with them everywhere they went and his throat burned when he thought back on the panic in Derek's eyes and the torture in his voice when Jackson laid dying in his arms. Stiles shook his head and pinched the inside of wrist again and again, fighting to urge to delve deeper into the shadowed memory. 

Herc set his hand on Raleigh's shoulder and breathed out a sigh, "What're we lookin' at?" 

The ranger pointed to the screen with his finger and sighed, "Nothing uncommon, Lydia told us from it's heat signature that it's got some big ass hands so-"

"Claws, Mr. Becket. I believe the word I used was claws," Lydia's voice was just as it had sounded in Derek's memories and Stiles visibly stiffened when he heard her heels click against the floor as she walked towards the two men. Derek swallowed and Stiles could have sworn that he felt the rangers fingertips brush against his waist. 

"We named it Tsume for a reason, it seems as if this particular Kaiju has a fetish for bad manicures. Now, may I?" the red head reached for the microphone and Herc held his hands to show two open palms, "Please, Mrs. Whittmore."  
Stiles felt something sink into the pit of his stomach when he looked over at Derek and saw how the mans eyes fell shut. 

Lydia hummed, "My Eureka team," her voice was crisp and when she spoke her lips parted into a smile that Stiles couldn't have described even if he wanted to, "This Kaiju's main weapon will be close-range. It has claws that will do extreme damage if you let it get close enough. Use your missiles and try to keep distance between the two of you."

When Lydia stepped back from the microphone the building began to shake. The Jaeger was pulled forward on large rotating wheels and when it left the hanger it was lifted by thick cables and flown out to the open ocean.  
Chris Argent was talking to Allison in low whispers, rubbing her shoulders and offering soft smiles as she shook her head back and forth. It was obvious that she didn't take this very well, and Stiles didn't blame her. The Marshall was clean cut and the resemblence between the two was uncanny. 

"Hey," Stiles' voice cracked when he tried to speak and he closed his eyes, huffing an irritated sigh, "So, what about back-up? Shouldn't we send another team out just to make sure they complete the mission?" Derek nodded and pointed towards the open doors of the hangar, "I'm sure they're sending someone from one of the other stations. There's no way they would send Striker out to breach with a category five and no defense."

Although it made Stiles feel better to know that his friends weren't out there fighting alone, it didn't make him anymore comfortable knowing that they were currently on their way to battle a creature that was specifically designed to exterminate the human race. He shifted his weight and let his eyes dart from monitor to monitor as he lifted his hand up to his mouth and started chewing absently on his fingertips. The control room was full of quiet chatter, Herc was speaking with Lydia and Raleigh, Chris was consoling Allison and Scott was now babbling about the inconvenience of surprise Kaiju and that they needed to work on the accuracy of the war clock.

"Hale," the Marshall's voice was firm and Derek nodded to Herc as he saluted the ranger with two fingers, "Glad to see you’re back, and I also see you've found yourself a new co-pilot?" The man walked forward and offered his hand which Stiles took gratefully, "It's an honor," the beta smiled through his words amd Herc smirked, "The honor’s mine. Raleigh speaks highly of you, have you already drifted?"

The two nodded simultaneously and Derek noticed that Stiles shifted awkwardly, "Yeah, this morning." 

Hansen's eyebrows rose and he flicked his gaze from Stiles to Derek and back again, "Well, I suspect it's not going to be easy for you two so take it slow and make sure you're seeing Isaac daily," he nudged his chin towards Stiles who nodded dumbly.  
"Herc, we have it on screen..." Lydia's sharp voice had disintegrated into something weak and soft as she gazed at the panel that flashed in front of the windows. 

Stiles took in a sharp breath when the beast manifested from the ocean waters. The camera was built into Striker's helmet and it allowed for the rest of the team to see the progression of the Kaiju's fighting abilities, but it also reminded everyone who wasn't in a Jaeger and didn't get the chance to experience a monster like Tsume, that they weren't something to underestimate. 

The screen was clearer than Stiles expected and he took a step forward to get a better look at what Boyd and Erica were currently staring at out in the middle of the Pacific. Tsume sported a large scaled body with a small cranium and long strong arms. He was almost humanoid, but his back was hunched by the weight of dense bone that jutted out of his spine and lined his back. The Kaiju's arms were lengthy and his reptilian hands flared out where long jagged claws tore through the thick hide. Like all of the aliens, Tsume had the traditional blue duvets on his chest, around his eyes and at the base of the spines on his back. 

"Missile detonation in 3... 2... 1," Erica's voice came over the loud speaker and the screen shook when Striker's chest slid open and six long-range missiles were fired at the beast across from them. 

They hit the target and Tsume fell back into the water with a strangled screech that made Stiles flinch and shrink back to his place next to Derek and Scott. The screen tried to adjust as water streaked across the lens and trembled as Striker took a few steps forward. 

The screen was jostled again as the Kaiju's spiked tail knocked into Striker and made the Jaeger tumble backwards beneath the waves. Allison took in a strangled breath and clumsily reached out to Scott who pulled her against his chest. Stiles closed his eyes for a moment and reminded himself to breathe.

"Titan!" Boyd's voice was sharp, "Light him up!" 

Stiles pulled his brows together as another Jaeger came into view from behind Tsume, a large forest colored mech with pale yellow accents. His voice was soft as he tilted his head to the side and blinked through the lenses of his glasses, "Who is..."  
"Titan Omega," Derek was smiling and he shook his head back and forth, "The German team." The alpha snorted through a small laugh when he looked over to Raleigh who had his tongue stuck between his teeth, sporting a childish grin.  
"You finally got them tame enough to send out?" Derek looked to Raleigh who shrugged and glanced over his shoulder, "No, I just sent them out anyways."

Stiles could hear the irritation in Chris's sigh as he watched the monitor and he could feel the small amount of playful tension currently filling the room as Titan Omega charged across the waters and hurdled itself at the massive Kaiju. Small canons lifted from his wrists and propelled small tight shots at the creature before landing strong blows into its chest. The view became distorted as Striker bounded forward and the view of the fight soon became a blurred wave of colors and water. The sounds were guttural and made Stiles turn his eyes to the floor. It reminded him of roars or screams, and it was something completely different than anything he had ever heard but after a few minutes the last screech echoed through the room and Stiles couldn't help but smile when Erica's voice came over the loud speaker.

"This is Striker Eurkea confirming their eleventh kill!" 

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and Scott kissed the top of Allison's head as she sank against him. Derek clapped along with everyone and Stiles smiled to himself as he looked to the two Marshall's who spoke through relieved smiles to one another. Even Lydia smiled as she smoothed her hands over the front of the long white lab coat draped across her and turned on her heels to walk out of the room. Derek's eyes followed her and Stiles saw him swallow uncomfortably when she flicked her gaze to stare back at him before walking through the double doors and taking her leave. 

"Nice job, rangers, now report back to base," Marshall Argent cleared his throat, "and to our new Titan Omega team, congratulations on your first kill."

Raleigh clapped his hands together and barked a laugh when Mako slapped his arm, bickering something about how 'unprepared' the German rangers were. "Seems to me they did just fine," he purred before curling his fingers gently against the dip of her lower back. The small woman rested a hand on her hip and shook her head back and forth, eyes rolling towards the ceiling when Raleigh tugged her to press snugly against his side.

It was a surreal experience to watch Striker Eureka and Titan Omega battle. Stiles couldn't differentiate the excitement from the fear that was currently radiating from him, but both were prevalent. Amber eyes felt around the room, from the workers turning knobs and entering data to the Marshall's now walking out with paperwork in both of there hands and then back to Derek who was nodding to Scott and Allison as they spoke about how quick the fight was and how relieved they were that it went smoothly.  


They walked from the control room to the floor of the hangar where Derek stalked off by himself to stare up at Lionheart who stood in the corner of the room. Stiles watched him for a moment, let his eyes trail across the rangers messy dark hair and raked his gaze down the his curve of his spine to where his hands were shoved into the back pockets of his jeans. 

"Beautiful isn't she?" Scott's voice made Stiles jump and he pushed at his glasses as he stumbled over his words, "Oh, y-yeah, yeah, she's uh..." his voice evened out and he looked back over to the Jaeger but focused on the more interesting subject standing at her feet, "She's something alright." 

When he turned back to face them Allison's eyebrows were raised and her smile told Stiles that she wasn't as oblivious as Scott was to his curious eyes. He wrinkled his nose at her and she shook her head before her attention was aimed at the hangar doors where Striker Eureka was being lowered onto the wheeled platforms. Her boots locked down and once they placed her back next to Gipsy Danger long, thick cables came down to latch on to her shoulders and chest piece. Sparks toppled off the damages that were sprayed across her right leg and on the left side of the abdominal piece. Stiles watched as the helmet was shot back to the fourth floor Drivesuit room and it wasn't but five minutes later that the elevator doors opened and Erica and Boyd stepped out.  


The room erupted into applause as the two walked forward, Erica's wild blonde curls were splayed over the black armor and she held tight to Boyd's hand as he looked down at her and squeezed gently between her fingertips. Stiles glanced at his feet and rubbed his fingers together as he listened to the commotion in the room die down and pushed the feeling of being completely inferior to the side before he smiled to the pilots. 

Erica squinted as she walked towards them and Boyd's eyes widened when they both recognized the handsome smile beaming at them from across the room. 

Derek licked across his lips and tried to stifle a laugh when Erica ran forward and flung her arms around his shoulders, "Derek! You son of a bitch, where have you been?!" 

Stiles could hear the excitement in her voice and smiled when Boyd also pulled Derek into a tight hug and told him that it had been far too long since they'd seen each other. The dark-haired pilot nodded and reached up to rub his palm leisurely over the scratchy stubble on his cheek, "Raleigh sent for me," he mumbled, eyes following Erica as she walked over and wrapped her arms securely around Stiles.

Amber eyes rolled when the woman swayed him back and forth but he smirked when she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss against his cheek, "Is it exhilarating?" he asked softly. Erica raised a thin brow and her smile broke for a moment as she reached forward and took off his glasses to set them on her own face, "Yes," she mumbled. He tilted his head to the side as she blinked playfully through the lenses of his glasses, "Were you scared?" he whispered. Erica's lip sank and she wrapped her arms back around him, lips brushing across his ear, "I'm always scared."

Stiles gripped his fingers into her back as she pressed tighter into the hug and he heard her breath tremble when he told her he would lend her a shoulder or an ear anytime she needed it. Their hushed conversation was shattered when the strong woman over-heard her co-pilot laugh, "Really, now? You and Stiles?" 

Her head jerked back and she stared at Stiles, ripping his glasses from her face to let them dangle between her fingers, "You-" Stiles heard her voice catch and a laugh was pushed from deep in her chest, "You guys are-"  


"Yeah...?" Stiles questioned before he reached out to take his glasses back, "I guess it's kind of an official thing now."

Deep caramel eyes blinked from Stiles to Derek and she grinned at both of them, which made Stiles blush and lift a hand to run nervously through his hair, "Holy shit... I never thought," her eyes fell on Derek who nodded slowly as his smile became small and coy, "I never thought you'd have another co-pilot but that's amazing. This is amazing, you two will be fantastic!" 

Stiles looked at the ground as he set his glasses back on his nose and stepped away from Erica when she started bouncing on her heels, "I'm so excited, this is so fucking exciting!" 

Scott grinned and bounced along with her, nodding enthusiastically, "I was telling them about the core adjustments I've made to Lionheart's shoulder canons and, oh! I also re-calibrated the coolants above her elbows which will pack a mean punch if you guys ever need to use them and-"

"Calm down, both of you," Derek's voice was a sigh, "We still have a long way to go." Forest eyes moved to Stiles and he lifted his chin, blinking at the beta as he folded his arms across his chest, "It's only been one day. We still need to go through more simulations, move in to the apartment and-"

"Apartment?" Stiles raised his brows and his mouth fell open. All the muscles in his body clenched and he stared over at Derek, narrowing his eyes when the alpha blinked back, "Yes?"

Allison cut in as Stiles' cheeks filled with color and his hands began to shake, "All the rangers move in to apartments together, that's why they built the complex behind Shatterdome."

"And it's not only for the pilots, me and Allison have a place back there and so do a lot of the workers on base. They kind of had to supply us with housing," Scott's voice was clear and Stiles felt like a complete idiot as the five people fixed their eyes on him. It wasn't his fault that he was uninformed when it came to 'Jaeger pilot' protocol, he had literally never been in a situation so complicated in his life and as he swallowed dryly and shrugged his shoulder, Scott bumped against him, "I know it's weird. We all know how weird it is." 

He felt like a puppy who couldn't get up the stairs properly and Stiles didn't have the courage to look up and see his friends nod and smile at him like he was a child who had done something embarrassingly cute. 

"Anyways," Derek's voice was warm and Stiles closed his eyes with his gritted together as the man once again saved him from an awkward situation, "We'll be in training for the next few weeks, I'm sure." 

Erica nodded and Boyd tugged on her wrist as he gestured down to the dark green and grey suits they were still wearing, "Can we please go change?" His voice was light and she nodded, poking Derek in the chest and flashing a smile across to Stiles, "See you around, Lionheart."

Her words made a chill run down Stiles' spine and his fingertips went numb. He bit down on his bottom lip to try and suppress the smile that pulled at the edges of his mouth and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. Lionheart. In one day he had met his co-pilot, a damaged, beautiful, fucked up man with more baggage than he knew how to deal with. He had experienced back-lash in the worst kind of way and rushed to be at his friends side as they charged into battle against a Kaiju. The rangers head throbbed and he sighed as he watched Erica and Boyd disappear into the elevator, "I think it's time I go throw myself into my bed and not come out until tomorrow." 

Scott laughed and Allison nodded to Stiles, "I think you deserve some sleep." 

Stiles pressed his eyes into Derek as his co-pilot shrugged his shoulder towards the stairs, "I'll see you in the morning." His words were gentle and Stiles still wasn't used to how soft-spoken the rough pilot seemed to be. Tired eyes blinked and he shook his head, stumbling over a 'yeah' as he quickly paced away and tried to catch his breath when he realized how fast his heart had been beating. "Fuck," he hissed under his breath and turned the corner to walk up the stairs. He was exhausted and it felt like half of him was swimming in his mind while the other half desperately tried to dissect anything that had to do with Derek Hale. Nimble fingers pushed the door to his room open and he kicked it closed before his back fell heavily against the wrinkled comforter, eyes fixed on the ceiling. 

"What the fuck is even happening..." he mumbled to himself as he set his glasses on the night stand next to his bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was too much to process, Derek, drift, Erica and Boyd, the Kaiju, the future. Every piece of it seemed to be too much for Stiles to comprehend so when he shut his eyes he tried to put himself back at Brown, next to Danny on the stained carpet of their dorm with an Xbox controller in his hand. 

It seemed to work at first and he drifted off to sleep as he remembered Danny's lung fulls of laughter.

The only thing that kept distracting him was the flash of wild green eyes and the curve of Derek's bottom lip.

\------------------------------

Dad, please- c'mon, just... You need to stop, you need to sleep this off, it's-

'You're a fucking disgrace! You hear me, kid! Do you hear me? You're mother was a good woman, a good god damn woman and she's rolling over in her grave knowing you share her last name-'

Derek choked and his eyes flew open in the dark. His room seemed smaller than it had when he had gone to sleep just hours before and he trembled when he lifted his arm above his head and nestled back into the pillow, eyes darting to the side to look at the clock above his dresser.

3:22 a.m

His chest was slick with sweat and he felt his heart pound rapidly as his lungs burnt behind his rib cage. The scent of whiskey still infiltrated his nostrils and it made his stomach flip before he closed his eyes again. The rangers hands were sore from curling into tight fists while he slept and when he sat up and slung his legs over the side of the bed he felt a wave of nerves slide from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.

Shatterdome was quiet at this hour and Derek felt at peace when he stepped through the misty door of the dark garden on the fifth floor. White sweats hung low on his hips and he grumbled when he stepped through a shallow puddle of water in his socks. 

"You can't sleep?"

Her voice jostled him and Derek tried once again to catch his breath as he turned and blinked at the dark silhouette seated on a bench underneath the overgrown tree in the middle of the room. 

Lydia busied her hands with her hair as she twisted it into a braid and Derek took in a shaky breath when he took a hesitant step forward, "No," his eyes closed angrily as the sharpness in his voice cut the silence. "No," he tried again, softer this time, "I can't."

Hazel eyes lifted to lock onto the ranger and the red-head hummed as her hands brushed over the creases of the cream night gown she wore. He analyzed everything about the woman, from her petite bare feet to the small swell of her hips, up to the shadow cast under her prominent collar bones all the way to the purple stains under her eyes. Lydia's cheeks weren't rosy with Christian Dior blush and her lips weren't painted with Chanel lipstick. She hadn't concealed the bags under her eyes and it made his knees shake when he saw the sadness etched into the ring she twisted back and forth on her left hand.

"Neither can I," her voice was quiet and she lifted her brows through a sarcastic laugh, "But I got used to it after the first couple months." 

Derek stood in front of her and fixed his eyes on the crinkled rose she absently played with it on her lap. She looked like a doll who had been broken and put back together again. Something reassembled. He recognized her in a way that made him want to turn and run out the door, take something that would force him to sleep and forget that he had ever woken up from the nightmare to begin with. But Derek was stronger than that and he swallowed painfully, "I'm sorry, Lydia."

He didn't expect the lump in his throat to drench the words in desperation but it did and he set his teeth together hard to keep himself from falling to his knees in front of her.

She looked up briefly and he could hear her breath shake, "When they handed me the flag," she didn't try to calm the tremble in her voice and Derek closed his eyes and swayed slightly on his heels, "When they handed me his flag, I looked for you. I looked for you and I tried not to drop it and I-" 

Lydia sucked in a breath and Derek clenched his jaw when she started to cry.

"You were like his brother, you were like my brother and you weren't there, Derek, you left me there alone. You were the best man at our wedding, you-"

It was when she tried to catch her breath on a shaken sob that Derek stepped forward. He fell so hard that his knees thumped against the concrete and he stumbled frantically over his words as the alpha let 'I'm sorry' fall from his lips again and again.  
Her open palm struck his cheek for the second time and chapped pink lips trembled as they parted in the darkness. She watched him for a moment and he stared back at her before Lydia's hard expression crumbled and she fell into his chest with her fingernails gripped into his sides and her face pressed into his shoulder. Derek held her as tears fell across his skin and he bit down on his lip when she heaved pleading breaths into his collar.

"Why did you leave?" Lydia gasped in breath after breath and Derek squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped strong arms around her, holding her close in the misty green house.

"Jackson, why did you leave?" the words were hushed through her tears as Derek rocked her against him and he felt her nails uncurl from his sides and wrap around to clench into his back. His throat burned and his eyes stung. Every bone in his body felt splintered and as he sat there in the cold with Lydia clinging to his chest, Derek wanted nothing more than to trade places with the man they had lost almost a year ago. 

"I miss him, Lydia," Derek's voice was broken and he buried his nose in the top of her head and rubbed his tears into the her hair, "I miss him too."

\------------------------------

I'm sorry guys, I really didn't like this chapter myself but I hope it didn't disappoint! The next chapter will be up sometime next week, thank you so much for reading! 

I'm over on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com) if you wanna say hi :3


	6. Chapter Six

Stiles woke up the morning after Striker Eureka and Titan Omega killed Tsume and he didn't move from his bed for what seemed like an eternity. The gears between his ears turned and clanked together, making things all the more difficult for him to swallow as he carefully sifted through the pieces of his life that had been laid out in front of him. 

Jaeger: A German word that translated to hunter. 

A hunter; one who searches or seeks something, one who dances in the art or practice of perusing any living organism. 

The ranger swallowed dryly and hummed, tired eyes falling closed in the early morning air. He listened to the steady inhale of his own breath and turned to stare at the picture frame on the night stand next to the bed. A Jaeger was more than just a robot, it was a mechanism designed to hunt something far beyond what the human species had ever expected to manifest in their world. But as Raleigh said years ago, the Kaiju and their handlers didn't expect them to rise to the occasion.  


They didn't expect knights to be inside their suits of armor. 

"Jaeger pilot..." the words slipped across his lips and his tongue darted out to chase them, feeling along the chapped flesh as he rolled over and reached to grab his phone. He narrowed his eyes and strained to see the four missed text messages on the screen, two from Danny, one from Allison, one from Derek.

His mouth pulled into an awkward half-smile as he read across Danny's enthusiastic novel-like text message. He was graduating in a month and a half and when Stiles took in the words 'I wish you could be there' he felt his chest ache and flutter. He typed back a response, mumbling the words to himself as he flopped on to his back again and held the phone above his nose. If there was anything he could do, it would be to get on a plane and be there for Danny, but he knew that his friend understood his inability to do so.

**Allison Argent August 31, 2031, 5:30 AM**

Hey, I know it's early but Derek said he wanted to train with you this morning so I'm gonna do my workout early :) don't let him be too hard on you!

Stiles groaned and set his phone down on his chest so he could fix his eyes back on the rusted ceiling. That was the other major thought worming its way through his mind in the sleepy hours of the warm summer morning. The man who would stand next to him during battle. The veteran ranger who would know every crevice of Stiles' mind from the inside out. He tongued lazily at the inside of his cheek as he thought back to when Derek brushed his feet against Stiles' legs and heat radiated into the soft cheek bones on the boys face. 

"Okay... I can just," he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the memories from yesterday. Idly toying on the edges of each one, the pain of losing Jackson crawled into his stomach and Stiles shifted uncomfortably but continued to breathe, gripping gently at each fleeting memory. Derek was interesting. He was right-handed, he had played Soccer when he was in high school and he had joined the Jaeger program when he was... eighteen. His mother used to sing him to sleep. There was something about fire... A fire in the woods.

It was strange to know such intimate details about someone he had met only a day prior, but that was the beauty of drift. It allowed two people to become one in a matter of minutes, the only drawback was how haunted it left the pilots in the days, weeks, even years after. 

He huffed a sigh and drummed his fingers on the back of his phone, cringing when he thought back to the embarrassing reaction he seemed to have when it came to moving in to an apartment with his co-pilot. In the long-run it made sense. Perfect sense. They needed their own space but they also needed to be in the same place as one another in case of an emergency, whether it was personal or professional. 

Stiles would have to be in constant and direct contact with Derek Hale. 

He slapped his hand across the front of his face and whined to himself, writhing around in the sheets on his bed. 

"There is no way, no way in hell-"

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

Stiles gasped when the silky voice broke through the room and he sat up far too quickly. His legs fell over onto the floor and he wrapped the comforter protectively around himself as he tried to catch his breath, eyes narrowed dangerously at the man pulling the door of his room shut.

Derek folded his arms over his chest as his brows rose and he chuckled softly at the sight of Stiles burrowing into the over-sized blanket, "I didn't mean to scare you. Your door was unlocked and you hadn't answered my text so I figured you were still asleep."  


Stiles' eyes didn't move from their locked position on Hale's face and as he finally settled his breathing he wiggled his head out of the small opening of the cocoon he had created, "So you decide to just walk in?" The beta barked a laugh and tightened the comforter around his shoulders, "You could have knocked, like a normal person. Or, you know, called, calling works too," Stiles arched a brow and tried to conceal his shirtless body along with the shameful blush that crawled across his cheeks and over his nose. 

The alpha tilted his head to the side and stayed quiet, offering nothing but a coy smile to the frustrated pilot on the bed.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Well, I'm up so... Can I get ready or are you going to drag me out of here in my boxers?"

The way Derek looked at him made Stiles squirm uncomfortably and he immediately regretted saying anything pertaining to what he was, or more importantly, wasn't wearing. He blinked away and snorted a laugh, "You're totally just gonna stand there aren't ya, big guy?" 

His co-pilot's brow cocked playfully and Derek tilted his head to the side as he still refused to grace Stiles with an answer.

Stiles' stomach twisted and he bit down on his bottom lip before unraveling himself from the blanket and standing to walk towards his dresser. There was something about being physically exposed to Derek that made him want to run and hide in his bathroom, but instead he straightened his back and took in a deep breath as he rummaged through the drawers. The nervous fleeting chills that spiked from his lower abdomen to the space behind his tongue made Stiles grit his teeth together and become all the more conscious of his lanky arms and legs as he shifted to pull a long sleeved shirt over his head.

Emerald eyes found their way from the curve of Stiles' neck to the small dip of his lower back and everywhere in-between. He concentrated on the stretch of his rib cage as he lifted his arms above his head and Stiles didn't notice when Derek sucked in a quiet breath as he bounced himself clumsily into crimson pants. It was uncommon for the alpha to be as intrigued as he was and when Stiles looked over his shoulder with his lips lazily parted, Derek finally succumbed and lowered his eyes to the floor.  


"Hey," Stiles' voice was brisk and Derek blinked up before he pursed his lips into a thin line, "So, shouldn't we get breakfast before we go or...?"

Derek nodded gently and Stiles flicked his eyes from the man's toes to where his hair was spiked on end. 

Stiles walked into the bathroom and Derek didn't notice the audible exhale of relief to be out of sight, just as Stiles didn't notice the faint sigh between Derek's lips as he slumped against the frame of the front door.

\------------------------------

"I literally just ate and now you want to go spar?"

"Yes," Derek's voice was monotone and he stared straight ahead as they walked down the hallway towards the double doors of the gym. A few people passed by and some took a second look at Derek as he stepped around them, mumbling little rumors at secrets that neither of the pilot's were too curious about.

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned the corner quickly as Derek pushed the doors open and walked towards the mat, discarding of his shirt in a swift movement. He tossed it to the side without a second thought and Stiles grumbled to himself as he followed suit, completely unaware of the other pair of eyes lingering over his body.

"Well, my, my," Erica's voice coo'd from behind him and cold hands snaked around Stiles' torso to pull his back against her chest, "Aren't you nice to look at? Why hide all this, hmmm?" 

Her nails teased at his sides and Stiles squirmed, a blush creeping over his face, "You... are extremely friendly, Miss Reyes but-" he gripped her wrists and tugged them from their place against his abdomen, "you are truly barking up the wrong tree, and I thought you and-"

Erica's laugh interrupted him and he turned to face her as she shook her head back and forth, "Oh, shut up. I'm kidding. Everyone know's my main man is over there doing shoulder press. And besides, every girl needs a gay best friend."

Stiles' head lolled and he groaned as he stared at the ceiling, "What is it with you heterosexuals and constantly thinking we're like those puppies you women carry around in their purses!" He chuckled through the last few words and Erica pushed his shoulder, "It's your uncanny ability to know what makes us females look sexy, even if you literally want none of this," she gestured down to the toned, curvy body she had worked very hard to obtain and Stiles laughed again before he nodded towards Derek who was stretching on the mat. Erica got the picture and winked at him before she turned to walk back over to Boyd, a curly pony tail bobbing between her shoulders as she went.

"Are you going to be able to focus?" Derek cracked his wrist and paced back and forth on the mat, earning a very confused look from Stiles, "Why wouldn't I be able to focus?"

Green eyes turned to Erica who was bouncing on her heels next to Boyd which made Stiles instantly fall into a fit of laughter. "Oh, you think she's going to distract me? Erica?"

Derek tilted his head to the side and Stiles closed his eyes, a frustrated sigh leaking from between his teeth, "No, Derek, she is not going to distract me. She isn't going to distract me what-so-ever." Amber eyes pierced into the alpha like spears and Derek hummed under his breath as he circled Stiles slowly, feet making soft pads against the mat as he went.

"Why don't you get contacts?" he mumbled under his breath as he plucked the black rimmed glasses off of Stiles nose and walked over to set them on his shirt. Stiles didn't notice he had been holding his breath until his chest started to burn and he exhaled shakily. This wasn't a good idea, none of it. Not the drift, nor the working out, not the letting Derek watch him get dressed or the idea of living with him. Nothing having to do with Stiles being within a substantial proximity to Derek Hale was a good idea.  


"I, uh, I don't like the thought of putting-" his words were knocked out of him when Derek's foot hit his chest and sent him stumbling onto the floor. 

The beta knew exactly what his co-pilot was going to say if he asked what the hell that was for. It was Derek's way of telling him to always be ready. To always be on his toes and as much as Stiles wanted to scowl and hiss at him, he stood back up instead.  


It went round and round. Derek coaching Stiles on how to strike with the right amount of force, Stiles laughing softly at how slow he made Derek seem.

"Watch," Derek's words were quiet as he nodded to Stiles who was trying to catch his breath. The alpha took a step forward and snatched Stiles by the wrist, twisting him roughly until his back was flesh against Derek's chest with his wrists pinned helplessly below his collarbones. Stiles squirmed and growled, "Watching," he snapped heatedly when Derek tightened his grip. 

"What would you do to get out of this?" Derek's words were pointed and firm as he tilted his head to get some sort of look at Stiles' face.

There was more than one thing Stiles could and would do to get out of Derek's grasp if it weren't for his complete lack of self-confidence and the overwhelming sense of intimidation he felt whenever he was around the man. "I would, uh," his cheeks warmed and a string of curses fell across his lips when he started to laugh, "I mean, really? Are you really asking me this?"

The moment he felt Derek's fingers loosen around his wrists, Stiles slammed his elbows into the strong abdomen behind him. It sent the breath flying out of Derek and Stiles turned quickly when the rangers knees hit the mat. 

"That's what I would do."

Derek looked up from under his lashes as he gripped into the flesh of his abdomen and gulped down breaths of air, "You'd distract me and then cheap shot me? Real fucking funny, Stiles."

The beta's brows rose and he walked over to grab his shirt, looking over his shoulder as Derek continued to shoot daggers at him from his place on the floor, "Well, for one, I didn't know I could distract you. Two, a Kaiju doesn't know what a cheap shot is."  


The words made Derek tilt his head to the side and nod a couple times as a small whine was pushed from his lungs when he tried to stand. It took a moment for Stiles to register that he might have actually damaged his partner, "Are you..." Stiles walked forward and placed his hand on Derek's arm but the prideful pilot shrugged it away.

"You just knocked the wind out of me," he mumbled, green eyes flashing over to meet with Stiles' worried stare, "And you're right, a Kaiju doesn't know. Bring thinking like that into the drift and we'll be unstoppable." 

As rushed as his words were they still made something inside Stiles keen and purr. Unstoppable. When it came to a Kaiju Stiles had never thought that anything was unstoppable, but Derek's words made him believe they could be true. 

"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to," Stiles stammered when Derek finally stood up straight and cleared his throat but his co-pilot jutted his head back and glanced around, a smirk playing across his mouth, "Don't apologize, kid. I haven't met a lot of people who could surprise me, you should be proud of yourself."

As smug as Stiles wanted to be, he simply nodded and slid his shirt back on before he played absently with the rim of his glasses, "Hey, you know, I'm not a kid," Stiles' voice was broken and his fingers curled into fists when he heard the lack of confidence in his own voice. "I mean, you're what? twenty-eight? I'm twenty-four in December, you aren't that much older than me," the beta looked to Derek who nodded and stepped off the mat, skating around his comment by asking whether he wanted a break or not before they met Mako for simulation.

Stiles wanted to press the subject further but his mouth wiggled slightly, "Mako? Raleigh isn't running simulation with us today?" It was strange to think that he wouldn't be there for their second time to drift together but Derek shook his head, "He has something important he had to do, apparently Newt and Lydia made a break through of some sort. Mako offered to stay behind and look after you."

"Us-" Stiles bit, "She stayed back to look after us."

Derek's eyes lolled to the ceiling and he sighed as he brushed passed Stiles to walk towards the exit of the gym, "Sure." 

\------------------------------

"Oh, hello my strong Wolf," Mako's words were quiet when she looked to Derek and she held a hand out to Stiles, grasping his knuckles gently, "And you, I don't quite know what you are yet. I'm sure you'll show me." She smiled and Stiles couldn't help but feel more at ease around the woman since she had accepted that he and Derek were going to be a team. 

He didn't understand why she named the people around her after things occurring in nature, but something about it made him feel warm. It made him feel like he was a part of something more intimate than he had ever thought he would be. Stiles had never imagined the Jaeger program to be so tight knit and he had never imagined himself to be so willing to ground himself in that intimacy. 

"You ready?" she didn't wait for their answer and punched the numbers on the flat panel before ushering them through the door. Stiles was nervous. His heart was pitter-pattering in his chest and his hands trembled as Mako clamped the metal bindings down over his wrists. "Don't chase," she hushed at him, "Just enjoy Derek's mind like it's a playground."

Stiles didn't know if his face could physically get anymore red than it did after she said that and he swallowed a sudden itch that had made itself prominent in his throat. The last drift wasn't easy, it might have been the hardest and most intense thing Stiles had ever gone through. He couldn't say he was looking forward to being back inside Derek's head, but when he looked over to the dark haired veteran to his right, he was reminded that he wasn't the only one with reservations.

Derek looked visibly shaken and as much as that threw Stiles for a loop, it also brought him back down from the verge of panic he had been dancing on.

"Alright," Mako's voice came across the loud speaker and the lights dimmed, "Neural bridge reaching for response in 3... 2... 1."

The robotic voice manifested in Stiles' ear again. It was gritty and it reminded Stiles of what biting into a lemon would sound like if it had a voice.

**Left Hemisphere initiated**

He heard Derek in the background again, telling him to relax, and the pain was just the same as it had been before. A burn. A pressure. And then nothing at all. Stiles reminded himself to breathe evenly this time and to his relief and surprise his mind accepted the memories more fluidly, recognizing some and taking its time to dissect the rest.

**Right Hemisphere initiated**

That voice again, it sounded in his ear and tugged at him slightly when he started to dive into Derek's mind. Jackson's wedding. He was a handsome man, with eyes like Stiles had never seen before and a face that could cause car accidents. He had his arms around Lydia, swayed her back and forth like she was made of glass. Stiles felt a hand on his but when he looked down nothing was there, just the absent sound of Allison's voice as the flood of memories continued to crash into his mind like a typhoon.

It was a different sensation to have some form of control and as Stiles swam towards Derek he caught glimpses and pieces of his co-pilot that he had never thought he would ever be able to reach. The birthday cake his mom made him when he was eight. How delighted Derek had been to learn how to ride a bike with his little sister. How much he loved the smell of Oregon, of wet leaves and mossy bark.

It was beautiful. He was beautiful. 

And then, just like that, Stiles' lungs filled with smoke. 

"Stiles, stop-" 

Derek's voice. It sounded distant again, far away, and Stiles hated that he couldn't get to him. The ash choked him and the smoke stung his eyes as he stumbled through the memory. Broken picture frames left glass littering the floor of the hallway in a house Stiles had never seen before, and he listened as a woman screamed three names again and again.

"Laura, Derek!" She was frantic and Stiles was shaking until something small pressed itself into his leg. 

"Der der, where's mama?" She was tiny with dark hair and wide eyes that she pawed at with the back of her hand, coughing and choking out tiny whimpers. Stiles opened his mouth to say something but no words came out and her scream sent chills down the back of his legs when a door down the hall burst open and flames came rushing out.

"Cora! Derek, Laura, where are you?" 

A hand landed on his shoulder and the hold was tight enough to bruise. The girl was scooped up and a dark haired woman tugged fiercely at his arm, "Derek, c'mon! Laura's outside, we need to go! We need to go now-"

Stiles tried to suck in air, tried to stumble along and fight his way out of the memory. His head twisted when he heard Derek's voice and let out a shaky sigh when the memory faded and there was nothing but white light behind his eyes. It wasn't a harsh stab like before, he didn't snap out of something or launch himself away from the emotion that the memory held. It was just a push, like breaking the surface after being held under a wave and taking a long painful gasp of fresh air.

Mako's voice was loud over the speaker, "Neural handshake at ninety-percent. Derek, control yourself!" 

The alpha let Stiles infiltrate him, watching the memories of his graduation, of his father, of his first lover fill his vision. It was intriguing, mesmerizing and he could have stayed there for a very long time. 

Derek's eyes shifted and they squeezed shut when Stiles' memories continued to dance around him. His mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when he was eight and Derek could feel the confusion seeping into his bones as Claudia's voice gently whispered in his ear. She had rocked him against her chest that night, told him the doctors would do their best to fix her and if they couldn't that she would try her best to fix herself.

Stiles was so small and in such a strange place that as he wondered whether death was a monster or a reality, he didn't catch the tremble in his mothers voice. Derek did though, he heard it and it made him feel completely lost. Observing a memory and living through them were two completely different concepts and Derek was currently walking on the fence between them.

Stiles breathed, even and steady against the glass front of his helmet. He could feel Derek, right on the outskirts of his thoughts like a ghost running its fingers through his hair. His presence was warm and Stiles stretched as far as he could to try and reel him in but when he finally did reach his co-pilot, the sound of his mothers voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

It was so foreign and his runaway heart skipped when tears burnt at the corner of Stiles' eyes. The memory was stronger, more palpable than any of the others and as he clawed his way further, he lost sight of the situation at hand and stammered over pleading, hopeful words.

"Mom? M-mom, mom I'm right here," he was desperate and the familiar pang of desire to live in a world where his mother was alive shot deep into his stomach. 

Derek blinked when he heard Stiles' voice and choked on a gasp when he felt the beta push forward. "No, no, Stiles! Don't!" 

"Get back here or I'm cutting you both!" Mako's voice sternly vibrated through their helmets but Stiles ignored her threat and when he finally found the memory, his fingertips ripped through the seams and he fell through. 

It wasn't his mother who caught him.

It wasn't his old bedroom before his eyes.

It was darkness and strong arms wrapped around his waist. 

"Get him up, get him up now!" 

He identified the voice after a moment and Mako's dainty hands tugged at his torso. Stiles didn't know what floor he was on, or how he had fallen, but the echo of his mothers voice continued to beckon him back into drift. His eyes were open but he couldn't see and his back slumped against something smooth. The back of his head hit the wall when someone pulled his helmet off and Stiles whimpered as calloused hands latched around the sides of his face.  


"Stiles..." Derek's voice was soft but it shook as he gripped the boy’s cheeks, "Stiles, c'mon, you have to focus or you could seriously hurt yourself."

"She was right there," Stiles' words were hushed and when he heard the breath catch in Derek's throat he finally started blinking. Derek was holding him up, hands placed on his face like Stiles was going to break if he let him go. The alpha's face was blurry as Stiles blinked again and again but soon enough he was starring at a very wide-eyed Derek Hale who had him pressed securely against the pillar in the middle of the room. 

"I'm so sorry. I should have- I didn't mean to bring you there, I should have had more control, I-"

"You're always much nicer after we drift, you know," Stiles interrupted and smiled softly as his eyes flicked from Derek's mouth back to the glassy green of his eyes, "We get along a lot better when you're not brooding."

The beta's voice was still weak and shook with adrenaline but Derek's mouth fell agape and he rolled his eyes, removing his hands in a swift drop that made Stiles buckle slightly but the veterans hands were back to steadying him and gripped his waist, propping him back up, "I'm sorry," Derek mumbled again as Stiles winced and raised his arms to push back against the pillar, "I really am."

As witty and sarcastic as Stiles could be it was hard to contain the emotions trampling over him. He glanced from the floor to Derek and then over his shoulder to Mako who observed the situation calmly, arms dangling by her side, "Stiles," her voice was cautious and she stepped forward to run her fingertips down his arm, "I know how you feel right now," she paused and he watched her carefully, the lump in his throat becoming more and more prominent with each inch she took, "and if you need time, if you need anything all you have to do," her words made him weak, made him focus on what had just happened. If he just kept repeating that he was fine maybe he would be, "All you have to do is ask. We understand if-"  


The edge in her voice made him crumble and he succumbed to the over-whelming feeling inside him.

Stiles was done. He was spent, and Derek couldn't catch him when he sank to the ground with his head in his hands. 

He didn't hear Mako when she said she was calling Raleigh. He didn't hear Derek tell her not to. All he could hear was his mothers voice and how close he had been to seeing her face. His shoulders rose and fell and he pulled his knees up to his chest, blocked out whoever was around him, whatever was around him and cried. Stiles didn't try to stop the tears, he didn't fight the sobs that came choked out of his mouth and he didn't resist when he felt Derek tug at his calves.  


The back of his legs hit the ground but he still hid his face and turned away when the alpha tugged at his arms.

"C'mon," Derek's voice was water-logged and Stiles peeked through his fingers but made no attempt to move them. Derek reached for his wrists and Stiles finally dropped his hands, swatting at his co-pilot, "Don't tell me to come on, you don't fucking understand!" 

"If anyone-" Derek was yelling and he stopped himself, eyes falling closed as he inhaled sharply before quietly continuing, "If anyone understands, it's me." 

Stiles' face was red and covered in tears, eyes puffy with long lashes sticking together. He tried to keep his lips from trembling but everything was still raw and everything still felt real. He rested his hands on his temple and sucked in a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut again as another sob rocked through his chest, "Derek, she was right there, she-"

He didn't resist when Derek pulled roughly on his shoulders and lifted him to his knees and he didn't push him away when he wrapped his arms around him and forced him into a strange hug. Stiles clawed at his back as he cried and leaned into him when Derek rested his head on the beta's shoulder. 

Stiles rambled about how he had almost forgotten what she sounded like and Derek murmured that he looked like her. 

It was like that for a while, Stiles clinging to Derek and crying into his shirt and Derek not letting go of him even though his legs were falling asleep. Stiles wanted to shove him away out of principal, to get up and walk away because realistically he had only known the man for forty-eight hours, but it was comforting to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest and to know that his co-pilot truly was the only one that had any idea how he felt right now. 

Stiles was pawing at his eyes with the back of his hands and Derek was drawing circles idly on his lower back when he realized what had just ensued and he squirmed, "I, uh, I'm really... That was-" 

Derek let him go and stood up, offering a hand to Stiles who tried his best not to make eye-contact, "That was really not necessary. I feel like a complete-"

"Don't," Derek interrupted, blinking at Stiles and tilting his head to catch the pair of amber eyes that continuously tried to dodge him, "be sorry for something that was my fault."

"I'm not sorry for that, I'm sorry for..." Stiles waved his hand between them in elaborate circles, "whatever that was."

His co-pilot continued to blink and Stiles looked up to watch him rub the back of his head, "I know it's weird," he muttered, "but it's hard to watch someone break down when you've felt what they're going through." 

Stiles didn't want it to be awkward, but as they continued to not look at each other in the blank white room, he couldn't help but fell the urge to run out the door and hide. 

"It'll get easier," Derek peeked at him and nodded when Stiles inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.

\------------------------------

Derek didn't lie. It did get easier.

After that simulation they stayed close to one another through out the days, training together, eating together, picking up on each other’s general habits. It had been hard for Stiles to convince himself to strap back in and tip toe into drift again, but the third time went smoothly, with hardly any hiccups and a successful mission. The days crawled on and soon Stiles found confidence and security when he walked into the simulation room with Derek.

He had learned so much about the alpha, about Jackson, Lydia, Allison, Scott, everyone. He found out that Raleigh had held Derek just as Derek had held Stiles after Jackson died. He had stumbled into memories of his first time drinking, his loud-mouthed younger sister Cora, and his obsession with music. Stiles relished in the fact that Derek appreciated art and read books like they were love-notes. There was so much about him that he wanted to know, beyond the complexities of memories that could hinder them in drift, he just wanted to know him.

Derek let Stiles poke at him and sneered when the young ranger made sarcastic jokes about his emotional eating habits or his infatuation with leather jackets. He jabbed back with huffed growls over the beta's inability to relax and called him a rabbit whenever they sat down to eat. 

It was unnerving to be as close to Derek as Stiles was and he had to constantly remind himself that they had only met close to a month ago. 

The first time Lydia sat down at their table during dinner, everyone went wide-eyed and quiet. She flipped her hair and glanced at Erica as the blonde bit loudly into an apple. Allison held Scott's hand and Isaac simply watched Lydia like she was a stick of dynamite set next to an open flame. Derek scooted closer to Stiles until their legs were touching under the table and Stiles stared at Lydia while his co-pilot kept his eyes pointed at the table.

"Congratulations," her voice was strong and she blinked at Stiles and then at Derek who still refused to look up. Stiles' eyes narrowed and as much as he wanted to spit venom at her for her lack of sympathy towards his partner, he knew that it was only because he had felt the alpha's emotions first-hand. The woman looking at him had feelings of her own and Stiles knew that the last year had been nothing but hell and heart break for her. "I heard they're going to send Lionheart out for the next breach," she tried to smile but it was broken and something about it made Stiles' chest twist, "I just wanted to tell you both that I'll be there for you."

Derek's eyes lifted slightly and he bumped his foot against Stiles' shin. 

Boyd cleared his throat and snaked an arm around Erica, stealing a bite of her apple. It took a moment to respond but Derek nodded slowly and looked up, "Thank you, Lydia," his voice was surprisingly even and Stiles let his gaze wander between them.  


It seemed like it was the last piece of ice that needed to melt between the two. The damage would never completely be repaired but at least now the old friends had a starting point and Stiles was more than relieved to see that finally become established. He had felt Derek's guilt, felt the animosity between the two every time they were in a room together and more importantly he had seen first-hand how close they had been before the death of her husband. Stiles wanted nothing more than for Derek to have that relationship with Lydia.

It had been a month since the pair had first drifted and every time the man bumped his feet against Stiles under the table it reminded him of how irrationally tethered they now were to each other. Raleigh hadn't been joking when he warned Stiles about the bond and now that he felt it he understood exactly why Erica and Boyd were hardly apart. 

Erica whined and pulled the apple away from Boyd as her eyebrows furrowed, "So, you guys met the Titan Omega twins, right?" Her voice was stifled with a laugh and her eyes were wide and bright as she glanced around the table. Isaac rolled his eyes and mumbled something to Lydia who laughed and swatted his hand playfully in response. Derek's lips spread into a toothy smile and Stiles couldn't help but stare at him for a moment before he turned to look at Erica, "Yes, yes we have. They are- uh... They're-"

"Awesome," Scott interrupted with a mouth full of food, "They literally give zero shits about anything." 

Derek laughed and covered his face with his hands, "They're a hand full, that's for damn sure."

"They're like a wrecking ball," Stiles piped through a small chuckle. 

When Stiles did meet them he was completely taken by surprise. They were young, maybe twenty-one, and they were identical twins. He remembered leaning over to Derek and asking how Raleigh found them. It was one of the rare times that Derek had genuinely laughed and Stiles hated him for how disgustingly beautiful it sounded.

They were German MMA fighters before they were recruited into the Jaeger program and when Stiles watched them stumble into the hangar, he knew immediately that they were a hurricane of trouble. Raleigh had introduced them to Stiles and the young beta team saluted Derek when they saw him. He playfully saluted them back and stifled a laugh when they started yelling at each other in German.

Raleigh had bumped his shoulder against Stiles and told him that they refused to speak English and not to be alarmed if they thundered at one another in their native language. 

"Ethan and Aiden," Boyd raised a brow and pulled Erica closer to him, "I've gotta say, I'm glad we're not that rowdy." Erica flashed a grin and shrugged her shoulders, "We are, just not where people can see, usually."

"Usually," Isaac echoed, shaking his head back and forth.

It felt good to relax with his friends, to look around and finally feel like he was a part of something whole. Him and Derek hadn't completely opened up to each other, that was for sure, but they had continued to push forward even through the heinous memories and unpleasant surprises that drift threw at them. They still kept going. Allison had continued to train Stiles daily and the beta felt himself getting stronger each and every time he woke up. Scott worked on the Jaegers everyday and had been trying to find a way to make the weapons system more efficient and cut the load time of the plasma canon and heat wave in half. Due to the lack of critical cases Striker hadn't been out to breach since their run in with Tsume. The Kaiju surfacing seemed to mainly be category three and Titan Omega along with the some of the other teams from distant bases had been able to take care of things.

"Go to the library with me," Derek's voice was low as he looked over to Stiles who blinked back at him from behind the lenses of his glasses. 

"We have a library here?" Stiles' eyebrows furrowed and he cocked his head to the side when Derek nodded, "Yeah. I was thinking about starting a new-"

"Oh!" Allison's voice piped and she bit down on her bottom lip through a small smile, "I actually, kind of... wanted to steal you," the words slowly left her mouth and she squinted her eyes like she expected Derek to shut her down completely. The man pursed his lips instead as his eyes shifted around, "For what?" 

"Shopping," Allison's voice was sharp and she grinned when Derek's eyes fell shut while a sigh drifted over his lips. 

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing and waved a hand to Allison, "You want to take Derek Hale shopping with you?" Disbelief swam through his words and Derek kicked his leg under the table.

"We used to go shopping all the time together, come on, I need my best friend's expert opinion," she pushed out her bottom lip and Derek rolled his eyes before growling out a 'fine' as he shook his head back and forth. Stiles looked at him with raised brows and he scoffed as he started to say something but Erica promptly interrupted, "You guys should go, I'll take Stiles." 

Stiles jerked his head back and tilted it to the side, "Oh, will you?"

"Yeah, I will," she arched a brow and Stiles reached across the table to tap on the top of her hand, "do I get to dance around and suddenly sport a lisp, pretty lady?" His voice was smooth and Derek smirked as he watched Erica bounce up and down in her seat, "No. But you both do need to go get something to wear for your debut which will be coming up here in a couple weeks, don't you think?"

Stiles' eyes narrowed and he sat up straight on the metal bench. Debut. He felt a sudden wave of dread wash over him and turned to Derek who heaved a deep sigh, "What- uh... What debut? Don't we just go out into the ocean and beat the shit out of Kaiju's, I mean-"

"It's not that simple," Derek had his elbows propped on the table with his hands clasped together and he rested his cheek on them as he looked to Stiles, "Jaeger pilots are more than just pilots. There's a lot of public relations involved. There's going to be a lot of conferences, interviews-"

"Oh, social situations. You should do just fine," sarcasm coated each word and Derek's lips pulled back into a mock snarl before Scott interjected, "He's actually, like, a really good speaker."

"Yeah, he's charming," Erica purred, "He's a totally different person on stage. If you look into the crowd you'll see a bunch of love-struck boys and girls chomping at the bit to get a hand on him."

Stiles licked across his bottom lip and chuckled when Derek gritted his teeth and stared at the ceiling. It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with the conversation and was thoroughly done with being the center of attention. 

"His milkshake brings all the boys to the yard," Scott took a sip of his water and choked as he dodged Derek's arm when the man lunged forward to try and grab him. Stiles hadn't laughed that hard in a long time and he laughed even harder when Derek stood up, red in the face and grumbled that Allison should meet him in the car. 

\------------------------------

"You like him."

"No."

"Yes, you do, Derek."

"No, Allison."

"It's okay that you like him, I like him, everyone likes him."

"He's annoying."

Allison's deep brown eyes rolled in their sockets as the pair walked from store to store in the central district of Hong Kong. The warm September Tuesday made the trip all the more enjoyable and Allison was pleased with the ability to wear a short floral printed sundress while Derek chose to sport a white shirt with crimson pants. The same ratty vans he wore from day to day scuffed across the sidewalk and he huffed when she pulled on his arm, groaning when he saw the pink walls of the high-end lingerie store.

"He's not annoying, Derek. You just don't like that you like him," Allison smiled as she pulled at the light fabric on a few different camisoles and Derek rolled his eyes as he stood next to her in the store.

"You still haven't told me why we're here," he pointed out, poking her stomach playfully when she held a small silk baby-doll against herself. Her lips pursed and she sighed, setting the small number back on the hangar, "It's our anniversary in a couple weeks," her eyes flicked to Derek and he smirked gently. 

"You're actually going to wear something sexy?" 

Allison swatted him in the chest before picking up another one and holding it against her torso, "Yes, Derek! I'm actually going to wear something sexy, now help me," her words were covered in a whine and the man shook his head before delicately maneuvering around her to glance at the wall. A few items hung on display, two-piece sets along side racy lace leotards and constricting corsets. 

She looked horrified that he would have even gone so far as to think that she'd be caught in something like that. "Here," the man reached up and to her delight snatched something from the top right side of the wall that she had been eyeing. A pale blue baby-doll styled piece with soft cream lace accenting the bust and hem. She smiled when she looked at it and pushed his arm, "See! I knew you would be able to find something, this is perfect. If I would have gone with Erica she would have put me in that-" she pointed up to a one piece leather leotard. 

Derek couldn't help but laugh.

When they left the store they talked about Scott, about how much Allison wanted to settle down and start a family. Derek simply nodded along as she rambled about how she knew her father needed her and how important Scott's work was when it came to the program, but that more than anything she just wanted to get away from it all. The alpha reminded her that they were only twenty-five and that they had plenty of time.

Allison looked up at him and he blinked back at her, offering the softest smile he could muster. Both of them knew that they might not have plenty of time, but neither of them had the heart to admit it.

As they turned a corner and crossed a street the pair leisurely walked through the sleek black doors of Armani. A woman in a tight black dress walked forward from her place behind an ornate black desk, "Hale, it's been too long," her words were respectful and she bowed. Derek bowed back and nodded, "It has," he agreed promptly. "Looking for a suit I presume?" She asked, an all-too-thin eyebrow arching dangerously high on her forehead. He nodded and Allison brushed her hand across his arm to let him know she was going to look at jewelry while he was walked to the back of the store where shirts, jackets and pants of all styles hung neatly on polished steel bars. 

"Rumor has it you're going to get your wings back," she spoke clearly and her voice was deep and sultry. Derek watched her carefully as he lazily looked through an array of different jackets, "My wings?"

"Yes, your wings. Some people believe pilots are guardian angels," she paused and Derek swallowed dryly with his eyes pointed at the ground. He couldn't keep the hurt from flashing across his face, as brief as it was, and he cleared his throat before continuing to flick through one jacket after another.

The woman approached him moments later, holding a suit in her hands with a shirt, tie and slacks, "Come, try this, I think you'll see it suits you quite well."

"You've never steered me wrong, Lyn Xue," he smiled and took the clothes, returning to find Allison sitting on one of the leather seats. 

Lyn was next to her and she grinned, pleased with herself as Derek stood in front of the tri-mirrored wall, "So?" her voice was smooth and fluid.

Allison raised her brows and her lips spread into a toothy smile, "Well look at you..."

The sleeves were a tad bit too long and needed to be tailored but the rest of the suit fit well. Black slacks with a black jacket, a cream button down shirt paired with a deep ebony tie. "It'll work," he mumbled quietly, looking to Allison who nodded in approval, "It'll work," she mocked, scoffing and throwing her hands in the air, "Look at yourself, you idiot. Guys are going to be crawling over each other to get to you."

"I don't want anyone crawling anywhere to get to me," his voice was a sigh and it made Allison roll her eyes and choke out a breathy laugh, "Seriously, Derek, you need some kind of love in your-"

"Shut up."

"Oh, come on. Just because he's your-"

Derek turned his back to her and stalked back to the dressing room before she could finish. 

"He's single?" Lyn Xue inquired, eyes flicking to Allison who nodded back at her. The woman smiled and folded her hands in front of her, straightening her back as she looked towards the doors of the fitting room. Allison cleared her throat, "And gay. Really gay," she blurted, smiling knowingly to the sales woman. "That's rather hard to believe," Lyn purred over her shoulder, a condescending eye roll pointed at the combat specialist who barked out a laugh.

"For you and every other woman on planet earth, lady."

\------------------------------

"Buy this," Erica's voice was firm as she shoved a shirt into Stiles' arms. The ranger stared at the shirt and then looked to his side where Scott stood chewing absently on some kind of candy bar, "Is she always like this?"  
"Indefinitely," Scott answered, holding out the half eaten candy bar to Stiles who wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

"Erica," Stiles sighed as she paced through the small store on the outskirts of the fashion district. They left only a little while after Allison and Derek had and Scott invited himself when Isaac told him he was taking Lydia out for coffee and Boyd retired to take a nap. The city was still mind-boggling to Stiles and he constantly found himself lost in the sights. His gaze bounced around to every detail, from the trees to the tall buildings and interesting people that walked the streets. 

There were billboards hung on every corner and in between buildings, every shop had a multitude of signs and colorful logos placed around its entrance. Stiles literally had to dragged inside the shops due to his curiosity with everything Hong Kong had to offer.

"I seriously do not have the money to buy all this shit," amber eyes glared at Erica who had been trying on shoes. She dangled her stiletto at him, "They're Chanel," she purred, "You respect Chanel when you see Chanel, kiss my feet Stilinski-"  
"You couldn't pay me. But seriously, how am I-"

"Have you even looked at your bank account since you joined up?" Erica's annoyed tone made Stiles flush and he grumbled curse after curse under his breath as he fished through his pocket for his phone. Scott eyed him carefully and chewed obnoxiously on the last bit of his candy bar, a crooked smile adorning his face when he saw Stiles' mouth drop open.

The number in his checking account could not be right. He blinked a few times, took off his glasses, rubbed his face and inhaled a sharp breath through his mouth. Every part of him was in disbelief, running through ways in which what he saw could be a hallucination or some kind of practical joke. Stiles' stomach tensed and the excitement that filled his insides spread out to his fingertips and into his toes. 

"Thirty... thirty-thousand, how is that, what is-"

"You're a Jaeger pilot. What? You think they pay us minimum wage to pilot a giant mech and go to war with Godzilla? No," Erica smiled as she clicked around in the high Chanel stilettos and slung a purse over her shoulder, eyeing herself smugly in the mirror.  


Scott's arm was slung around Stiles and he rocked him back and forth, "Welcome to the high-life." His friends words made Stiles want to either jump for joy or faint on the spot, but he glanced over at him and nodded quickly, "Y-yeah, yeah. I, uh, I have no idea what to do right now. I'm at a loss. What does someone do with Thirty-thou-"

"Buy shit!" Erica and Scott shouted simultaneously, causing Stiles to flinch and laugh to himself, shrugging his shoulders, "Guess you're right." 

They walked down the busy streets and weaved from store to store, Erica stopping to try on a dress here or a pair of shoes there, Scott simply followed and poked fun at Stiles every time he asked about some name-brand he had never heard of. "So," Scott started as he picked up a tank top and walked to the register to pay for it, "How are things going with you and Derek?"

Stiles shifted uncomfortably and moved his eyes to some knick-knacks lining the register as he tried to find a way to answer his question. It wasn't as if he and Derek had some monumental break through, Derek was still quiet and reserved while Stiles was more pushy and stubborn. It had taken them a few tries before they finally got past the gritty parts of drift and learned to accept certain pieces of each other. It was accepting their own distant memories that seemed to pose a problem, along with the back-lash for Stiles, and for Derek the nightmares. 

When his co-pilot had opened up about his trouble sleeping, Stiles didn't quite know how to deal with it. Derek had slighted him with a comment made in the middle of a conversation about his memories giving him problems and up until that point the beta had thought Derek had everything under his control.

As selfish as it was it sounded, it made Stiles feel better to know that Derek was enduring some of the aftermath too. 

"Things are okay," Stiles hesitated, "We just... I don't know, he refuses to talk about certain things and I feel like it would make things so much easier if we just talked about them-"

"Talked about what? What are we talking about?" Erica interrupted, blinking through the dark lenses of a newly purchased pair of Kate Spade sunglasses.

"Stiles and Derek," Scott mumbled, thanking the man behind the counter as he took his bag. The three walked out the door and Erica turned her head to grin at Stiles, "So?" 

"Things are okay," he repeated, "Like I was saying he just won't open up. He won't talk to me about anything and I feel like it would make things a lot easier if he did."

Erica nodded as they waited at a street light, "Derek's been through a lot. He never really did open up to anyone, I mean, Jackson was one of the only people I've ever seen him comfortable around and they were partners for what..." her eyes lolled up and she counted on her fingers, "Six years, seven years?"

Stiles swallowed painfully and nodded to her as he chewed nervously on his bottom lip. Derek's relationship with Jackson didn't necessarily make him jealous but it made him feel inadequate when it came to piloting with the alpha. Their relationship made him feel young, naive, inexperienced, like he was more of a bother than a comfort and Stiles fought tooth and nail to keep those emotions hidden in drift, but in the end he knew that Derek had felt them. A few weeks ago he had tried to talk to Stiles about it, pressed gently at him with firm words but Stiles dodged them like he did everything else and turned the conversation towards something like tea, or hiking, or comic books or the latest movies that had came out in theaters. 

He knew that Derek saw right through him, and it frustrated Stiles to know end that the man let him get away with it so easily.

"I know..." Stiles mumbled, "I just want him to feel safe enough to talk to me about the things he's gone through. I've seen them, I've felt them, I want him to show me in his own way that these impossible memories are..."  


"Just memories," Erica's words were soft and she smiled, touching his arm, "I know."

Stiles tried to smile at her and Scott bumped into his shoulder as they passed by the entrance of a very modern looking clothing store. "Oh, perfect," Erica purred against Stiles' cheek which made him turn his now fevered face away, "You'll look so good in Versace, c'mon."

Scott and Erica pushed him through the doors even though Stiles didn't know one thing about shopping in a high-end establishment like the one they had just come across. There was only one other client in the entire store and Stiles gulped down a nervous breath as a short blonde woman approached him, her sky high heels tapping loudly against the tile floor.

"How may I help?" She smiled brightly and the ranger sighed, relieved that the exotic sales-woman seemed to be friendly.  
"I'm, uh... I don't really know-"

"He needs a suit. Black. Something contemporary, for evening. And... He'll probably need it tailored-" Erica tapped on his shoulder and he sank away, lip curling up into something of a snarl.

"Ah, the shoulders, yes I see. You've got a small frame, but those shoulders are to die for I must say," the woman curled her index finger and started walking to the right of the store. Erica was the first to follow and Stiles stumbled after them, a bright, flustered blush cast over his face as he went. 

The woman hummed as she gingerly sifted through the lined up jackets and finally snatched one up, showing it to Erica who nodded enthusiastically. Scott watched them, yawning when Stiles tapped his foot impatiently against the floor. "What are they even doing," Scott mumbled, turning his eyes to Stiles who finally pushed forward and grabbed the jacket from the woman.

"No," he hissed. Long fingers dove into between the hangars and Stiles picked at one, another and then lifted a third jacket up, slinging it over his arm. "Shirts?" he ran his fingers through his hair and looked to the woman whose mouth was set in something a shocked 'o' as she pointed to the rack behind them. Stiles' pace was brisk ad he walked over and grabbed a deep red shirt along with a black tie. "I'll need a thirty in these," his voice was sharp as he handed her a pair of sleek black pants, "And I'll need them 'tall' so expect to tailor them about an inch."

Erica couldn't help but start to laugh and shook her head as Stiles rambled off about the clothing she had originally started picking out for him, "I should have known the inner fashionista in you would pop out at the sight of a suit!"

Amber eyes shot daggers at her as he shrugged the jacket on so the woman could make a few marks for adjustments and Erica snorted through another laugh, "Please tell me you watch that fashion show, you know the one where they all compete and like, every single guy on there, snaps, you know," she imitated, snapping her fingers and flicking her wrist.

Stiles couldn't help it, his chest rose and fell as he laughed and Scott joined right in, chuckling under his breath as he sat in one of the large chairs next to the elaborate shelf of shoes in front of them. 

The Versace sales-woman was trying to cover her own small smirks and blinked at Stiles when he took off his glasses and pawed at his eyes, "Are you a ranger?" Her words were meek as she held a small pin between her fingertips, sliding it into the fabric right below his shoulder.

"Yes," he answered, still trying to regain his composure from the fit of laughter that had just ensued, "Why do you ask?"

"You just..." she shook her head, going quiet. He turned, making her stumble and stare nervously at the ground. Stiles' eyes widened and he reached out to steady her, "It's okay, I don't bite. Why do you ask?"

She had deep hazel eyes and she looked like she was older, maybe in her early thirties. Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail that fell just passed the nape of her neck, "I just... I appreciate everything you do. Both of you," her eyes turned to Erica who had stopped laughing and was listening intently to the now very interesting woman. 

Stiles tilted his head to the side and blinked as he searched for words, any words to say to her. It was the first time anyone had thanked him for the things he had not yet done, the first time anyone had acknowledged the sacrifice he hadn't made yet. It was the first time he felt like his title was something other than writing on a piece of paper.

"What's your name?" He didn't know why he asked her, but she answered daintily, "Daisy," she said, sticking another pin in the arm of his jacket. 

"Well, thank you, Daisy." 

Erica smiled at Stiles who smiled back at her and after everything was said and done he paid for the suit and Daisy told him that it would be sent to Shatterdome in the next forty-eight hours. 

Before they went to leave Erica ran back inside and wrapped her arms around the woman, squeezing tight. When the ranger walked back Stiles looked over his shoulder and saw the citizen standing with her fingers curled gently against her mouth, concealing a smile that Stiles had never seen before. 

\------------------------------

They met Allison and Derek at a bar inside the Nikko Hotel. The three stumbled in, Erica holding on to Stiles' hand with Scott's arm slung around her shoulders. Stiles' head was thrown back, smiling wide with his eyes squeezed shut and as Derek turned to look at them he felt something pull at the bottom of his stomach.

"They look so happy," Allison sounded bewildered and she glanced at Derek, stealing the sight of a small smile turning at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah," it was his only response before Scott bounded towards Allison. She was sitting in a small booth and he crowded forward, mumbling stupidly about how much he missed her and how happy he was to see her. She rolled her eyes and pecked him once on the lips before smushing his face away with the palm of her hand. 

Erica squeezed in next to the two specialists and Stiles glanced at Derek who scooted over to give him room to sit down.

Neither of them would show it, or dare say it, but the relief washing over each of them was breath taking. Stiles didn't want to admit that being away from him for that long had taken a toll, but it had, and as used to it as Derek was, the bond was still fresh and he too was uncomfortable for most of the day without his co-pilot at his side. 

"Did you have fun?" Derek looked to Stiles, eyes trailing across the boys bony fingers as the ranger rubbed at his chin. "Yeah," Stiles answered, taking his glasses off to clean them with the end of his shirt. Derek sighed and snatched them out of his hand, taking a soft cloth off the table and rubbing circled into the lenses, "You're always doing that," the alpha muttered.

Stiles stared at him, taken back by Derek's sudden display of... he didn't even know what. Of something. His heart fluttered slightly and he stumbled over his words, "I am always doing that, yes." It was thoroughly embarrassing that Stiles couldn't think of anything to say but his attention was stolen as Erica pushed herself out of the booth, holding her phone against her ear.

"Yeah, hi babe, hi. Yes, I'm fine," her voice grew distant and her heeled black boots clicked against the ground as she paced away. Allison glanced over to the two rangers, eyes fixed on Stiles before she trailed them down to see Derek adamantly cleaning the boys glasses. 

"Thank god," her voice was a whisper, "get out, Scott, get out, get out!" The woman was hurriedly whispering into her boyfriends ear who, confused as ever, frowned and stepped out of the booth only to be hauled over to the bar by his all too eager girlfriend.  


Stiles had hardly noticed any of it since Derek's foot bumped against his and he squinted as Derek placed the glasses gently back on his face, the pad of his finger brushing up the bridge of Stiles' nose when he pushed them back up. 

"That was completely unnecessary," Stiles voice was shaky and he inhaled sharply when Derek turned his eyes away and tapped, un-enthused, against the side of the wine glass set in front of him. 

"You're completely unnecessary," the alpha snorted, lifting the glass to tip thick red liquid against his mouth.

The beta gritted his teeth, "You're a real asshole, you know that."

"Yeah," Derek looked back over to him and Stiles kicked him under the table, causing the alpha to wince slightly, "But at least I know I'm an asshole. You don't even know what you are, do you Stiles?" 

It was one of those phrases that caused panic and something completely unimaginable to shoot up Stiles' spine. Something like a chill but warmer, one of those bone-crushing sensations, like the ones animals get before earthquakes or thunder storms. He blinked repeatedly as words and sentences ran into each other like cars piling up on a highway. He wanted to find anything, to find something, to ask a question or muster up a witty, sly remark. Something that would shut Derek Hale up forever. Something that would make the alpha never open his mouth and let phrases like that make Stiles rear up and over-think every single interaction they endured together.

You don't even know what you are, do you Stiles?

The words echoed again and Stiles bit down on his lip, eyes narrowing dangerously as his fingers curled into fists, "If you have something you want to fucking say-"

"Look who I found!" Erica's voice sounded through the open hotel bar and when Stiles looked up, he heard Derek groan from over his shoulder.

"Who is..." Stiles blinked through his glasses and took in the sight of a tall well-built man walking next to Erica. Dark hair was slicked back and his hands were set in the front pockets of his well-tailored, obviously designer jeans. Stiles arched a brow when he saw the brown Hugo Boss shoes the man spent way too much time picking out and smirked when the stranger rolled up the sleeves of his beige sports jacket and set his hands on the edge of their table.

"This," Derek breathed out, "is our wonderful PR Manager and our fiercely loyal Lawyer."

The unusual amount of sarcasm coating Derek's words made Stiles bristle and he stared up at him with parted lips and an un-amused smile, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Derek rolled his eyes.

The man smiled smugly and sighed into the air, relishing in the tension that was now suffocating the room.

"It's nice to see my nephew all spunky and ready to get back out in the ring," his voice was smooth, like honey across sand paper and Stiles jerked to stare at Derek who was taking a long drink off the wine glass in his hand.

"Nice to see you too, Peter."

\------------------------------

Okay, this chapter was a long one. I hope you guys are enjoying it, this chapter was really fun to write and I feel like I'm back in the groove of things! I'm over on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com) just so you know :P


	7. Chapter Seven

"Okay," Stiles closed the door to his room and turned to face Derek whose expression was far from enthusiastic, "You, sir, have some fucking explaining to do. Your uncle? Peter? Like the same uncle that bullied you in high school-"

"Yes, Stiles. The same uncle. He is the same person. Exactly. The. Same." 

Stiles pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sighed, "Interesting."

Peter Hale was more than interesting. He seemed like something poisonous that was should be kept behind glass in a locked room on display. The man moved like a cat, prowled around with his claws out, constantly begging for a fight and after the pilot had realized just who he was, Stiles had absolutely no desire to be near him.

Derek leaned against the dresser on the far wall as Stiles paced back and forth in the small space, "How- I mean, this doesn't even make sense, how did he become a part of...? Didn't you-"  
"He's the one who got me recruited," Derek interrupted, watching as his co-pilot stopped and blinked wide-eyed at him, "Peter had been hired by Stacker when Jaeger pilots started to become more like celebrities than war heroes. Trust me, I wish he would have retired years ago." 

Amber eyes rolled and he huffed an exaggerated sigh when his back hit the mattress and Stiles fell onto the bed, "Derek, he was really fucked up to you, can't you request someone else. Literally, anyone else to be our little spokesperson or whatever the hell he is?" 

Stiles stretched out across the comforter and reached up to push his knuckles underneath his glasses and paw tiredly at his eyes. Peter had never done anything to personally make Stiles uncomfortable, he had only met the man a few hours ago, but the memories that Derek had shared during drift were enough to make the beta hesitant to trust the man. 

Forest eyes trailed along the curve of Stiles' bare hip where his shirt had bunched up against the blanket, flicking down when the ranger rolled his ankle and pushed himself up with his hands, "Derek?" The voice was sharp, pulling the alphas eyes away to where Stiles was staring at him, open mouthed and waiting for an answer. 

He swallowed uncomfortably, "No, kid-"

"What was that?"

Derek's jaw clenched, "No, Stiles, there is no other option. As much as I hate to say it, he's the best in the business. Besides, high school was a long time ago, things are different." 

It was silent between them for a moment as Derek gritted his teeth and pointed his eyes safely at the ceiling while Stiles took in breath after breath, dissecting the situation. It wasn't the fear of what Peter could do and it wasn't the idea that he wouldn't do them justice when presenting them as a team; it was the thought that Peter had put Derek through living hell as a child and as much as Stiles didn't want to be affected by the memories, he was. 

"It's late," Derek grumbled, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants, "Get some sleep, according to Peter we're moving into the apartment tomorrow."

The sudden tension in the room was palpable and Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek as Derek walked towards the door. He was thankful that it had taken this long for an apartment to be made ready for them, but in the end a month still was not enough time for Stiles to get used to the idea of living with Derek. Scenarios stampeded through his mind and he winced when his teeth broke through the skin on the inside of his cheek. 

"Meet me in the cafeteria at seven," Derek opened the door and looked to Stiles who peeked up at him over the rim of his glasses. He nodded and tongued at his cheek before shy eyes retreated to the floor. 

When the door finally slid closed Stiles let a string of curses break into the open air. There had been things he wanted to say, issues he wanted to address, but like most situations, Stiles had choked and found himself sprawled on his bed, alone and awake with a plethora of thoughts he couldn't seem to suppress. Peter was the least of his concerns and it seemed like the only thing Stiles could focus on was the mortifying truth that he would have to share a living space with his co-pilot. The man who had turned his entire life completely upside down and had equally brought him a balance he didn't think would be achievable in a life-time. 

The ranger anxiously ran his fingers through his hair and turned, closing his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. His nerves were relentless and they pried at him for close to an hour before he fell into a restless slumber. 

\------------------------------

The morning came quickly and when Stiles' alarm rang throughout his room he peeled his eyes open and groaned into his pillow. "...Fucking kidding me," his words were muffled and he slid his arm across the expanse of his bed, swatting again and again until the tips of his fingers found the edge of his phone and he pulled it closer. It felt like he had only been asleep for a few minutes but when he looked at the clock it flashed 6:34 a.m. 

Stiles wanted to tell himself that he hadn't dreamt, but the blush creeping across the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks diffused his unspoken lie. His body ached and he put his hand on the nightstand to steady himself as he stood and walked to the bathroom. The dreams were different every night and sometimes Derek’s past would leak into the confines behind his eyes. It was never the memories that bothered him though. Not the ones involving Jackson, nor the ones from Derek's childhood when his older sister would pinch the hair behind his ear or smoke would invade his lungs. No, it was Stiles' own thoughts that made him exceedingly angry. 

He threw himself into the shower and lazily brushed his teeth before he finally slipped his clothes on and headed down to the cafeteria. His pace was deliberately slow and he found himself constantly wanting to turn back and hide behind the locked door of his room until someone came to find him. 

"Not a coward," Stiles breathed, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, "Not a big deal. Gonna go do this and it's gonna be fine and I'm gonna be fine." He had talked himself through the entire trek downstairs and when he walked into the dining hall Stiles was greeted with the sight of Derek leaning against the far wall next to the entrance to the hangar accompanied by Peter and Raleigh. He swallowed down a shaky breath and tried with all his might to push the anxiety growing at the base of his throat into his stomach.

"Morning," Raleigh's rough voice was warm as he handed Stiles a cup full of fragrant dark coffee, "Your things are being collected right now, they'll be in the apartment by the time we get over there." 

Stiles nodded and took a sip off his coffee, glancing at Peter who was typing some kind of long message on his phone. He heard Derek's shoes squeak against the floor and looked towards the alpha who was also drinking leisurely from a cup of coffee. It was early and it didn't seem like any of them wanted to be awake, but when Raleigh's phone rang he picked it up and nodded to the three men, waving a hand as he walked towards the hangar.  


Stiles stayed next to Derek as they paced through the crowds of engineers towards the exit. 

There were three separate apartment buildings behind the east hangar at Shatterdome. They were simple and towered over the rest of the base. Each one had its one helicopter pad on the roof along with a pool, private gym, and other generous amenities that Stiles had never imagined he would have access to. Peter sighed and gestured with his hand towards the third building, "Home sweet home. You guys have an apartment on the first floor per Derek's request. Go un-pack, get settled and I'll be back to brief you on the debut in about an hour."

Stiles bristled and he clenched his fists to keep them from trembling. 

Raleigh swatted him playfully on the back, knocking a breath of air out of him, "Furniture isn't anything fancy so don't get excited." His mentor smirked and dangled a set of keys over Stiles' hand. He uncurled his fingers and the cold metal sent a chill running up his spine when they were set gently in his palm.

Peter and Raleigh were talking as they took their leave and Stiles' eyes quickly focused on Derek who had already started walking towards the two glass doors of the building. "H-hey, hey!" Stiles paced to catch up and stumbled over his words as he craned his neck to look at Derek, "You- did you seriously request the first floor because-"

"Yes," it was short and Derek didn't bother looking down at Stiles when he growled and bit down on his lip, "You didn't have to do that!" 

Derek continued to walk forward and Stiles was momentarily distracted by the cream tile floor and the mirrored ceiling of the entry way. There was a small couch with two chairs in the lobby facing a small modern fountain attached to the far wall. There were three elevators on each side of the room and two hallways, one heading to the left and the other to the right. Derek walked to the left and Stiles clumsily followed, "Would you just-" Stiles voice was low and he huffed a sigh before finally catching up to his co-pilot, snatching his arm, "Stop!"

Green eyes shot up to Stiles as he pursed his lips, biting down on his words as they left his mouth, "I know you're claustrophobic and I didn't think you'd want to explain that to everyone so I-"  
"Thank you," Stiles' voice was soft, softer than he had wanted it to be and the sincerity took Derek by surprise, "I just wanted to say thank you." 

Derek watched him for a moment, studied the way Stiles' honey eyes shifted back and forth behind his glasses before he nodded, "Don't worry about it."

Long fingers un-curled from around Derek's forearm and they continued down the hallway until the alpha stopped abruptly in front of a large white door with the numbers 113 placed subtly above the doorbell. Intricate designs were carved into the frame and as Derek dug into his pocket for the key with his free hand, Stiles batted him away, "I have mine," he mumbled under his breath as he slid the key in and pushed the door open. The alpha stepped aside and let Stiles walk into the apartment first, smirking as wide amber eyes bounced around. 

Stiles' bottom lip fell slack as his gaze drifted across the expanse of the open room. The floor was covered in sleek black tile and contrasted beautifully against the white walls. The living room was large, larger than he had expected, with a black leather couch, a matching recliner and a dark oak coffee table set dead center in front of a stone fireplace. A large fluffy white rug covered most of the floor where the furniture was and to the left was the open kitchen, sleek and modern with a large fridge and ebony counter tops. "Holy shit..." there weren't many other things that Stiles could have said in that moment that would have adequately described the feelings rushing through him. It was excitement bundled around shock and locked together somewhere between disbelief and fear. 

He swallowed and continued to glance around, from the flat screen TV on the wall above the fireplace to the wood shutters that hung in front of the windows. It was hard to believe that anything around him was real, that this life he had plunged into was real, that the people he had come to care about were real. 

That the man brushing passed him to walk down the hall was real.

"My rooms down here," Derek called over his shoulder, "Yours is down there." 

Stiles looked over his shoulder down the hallway to the right and took in a shaky breath before picking up his feet to make his way to his room. Double doors opened up to the second master bedroom and the ranger felt his lungs tighten and constrict.  


The tile ended at the frame of the door and was replaced by plush cream carpet. A large dresser was pushed against the wall and an all-too large bed sat in the middle of the room with two nightstands on either side. The furniture was all pale, ash-wood and the comforter draped across his bed was stained blood red. It was beautiful. Elaborate. Exquisite. And Stiles had no idea how to comprehend that this was his new safe place.

His hands wrapped around the picture frame set delicately on one of the nightstands and he blinked down at it through a melancholy smile. There was a walk in closet where his suitcase and duffle bag were neatly placed and passed it was a short hallway that led to a lavish bathroom. It had dual sinks and marble counter tops, a walk in shower and a separate tub. Everything about it seemed foreign and unreachable. 

Stiles dragged his fingertips across the counter tops and jumped when he heard a soft knock at the door. Derek cleared his throat and peeked around the corner into the bathroom where Stiles stood, "So...?" his voice graced the silence, smooth and controlled, like it always was and amber eyes lifted to look back at him. 

"It's..." Stiles let a shaky laugh fall over his lips and raised his brows, "It's amazing. This place is fucking... I can't even begin to explain-"

"I know," Derek's eyes closed and Stiles froze when a soft smile teased at the edges of his lips, "I felt the same way when I moved in for the first time."

There was something sad about the way that Derek looked at him, like he was torn between two worlds. The world he lived in with Jackson and the world he was living in with Stiles. The thought of it made the younger pilot squirm and shift to bite nervously on his nails. 

It was strange, everything was strange and as much as he wanted to say that nothing made sense, it all did and that alone was more confusing than anything else.

"Hurry up," Derek's voice pulled him back and Stiles nodded, catching a glimpse of Derek as he walked back down to the other end of the hall across the living room and closed his own pair of double doors behind him.

\------------------------------

Peter was bad but he wasn't as bad as Stiles had imagined he would be. The man was fashionable, witty and took sarcasm to an unreachable level but in the end he realized that the Hale's had more of an established family bond than he had thought.  
"So," the older gentleman cocked a brow and looked to Stiles who was fiddling with a bottle of water, "Boyfriend, girlfriend, single, married, what?"

A blush bloomed across his cheeks and he heard Derek breathe out a sigh as Stiles stammered for some kind of stable response, "Well, uh, what does that- does it really matter-"

"Yes, it matters," Peter tilted his head to the side, deep aqua eyes fixed on the ranger. 

"No, no... I'm single, excruciatingly single," Stiles took off his glasses and tried to keep himself busy with cleaning them so he would have an excuse to break eye contact with the man currently lounging in the recliner across from the couch. 

There was a pause as Peter leaned his elbow into the armrest and tapped his fingers slowly across the line of his jaw, "And are we on team barbie or ken or do we play with both?" 

Stiles obviously bristled as a laugh choked its way from his throat and he set his glasses back on his face, shooting daggers at Peter from his place on the couch next to Derek. His co-pilot's head leaned back and he rolled his eyes, teeth set hard against each other, "Really, Peter?" Derek's voice was heated and it made Stiles glance at him from the corner of his eyes. Peter held his hands up in mock surrender as his lips twisted into a Cheshire grin, "Hey, these are things I need to know. You're going to be in the public eye and I need to know if he's-"

"I'm gay," Stiles hissed, "and I'm single. I have no children out of wed-lock, I've never been married, I went to Brown University, my father is a retired Sheriff, my mother died when I was young and to get it out of the way I am completely free of any sexually transmitted diseases. Are we good or would you like to know what kind of shampoo and conditioner I use?" 

Peter's lips pursed together and he hummed softly before pointing at Derek through a playful smile, "He's your co-pilot?" he smirked and gestured between the two, "You two? Raleigh let you two be in a room together?" His words were quiet and small spurts of laughter echoed between them, "I mean, are you guys like fu-"

"I will shoot you," Derek's voice was sharp and his teeth clanked together as he spoke, "and I will not feel bad about it."

"Talia will."

"Mom's not here, Peter."

"Oh, that's right, her and Cora are in Europe or something, right? Have you heard from them because we all need to go out and get a light lunch or-"

"Peter!" The volume in Derek's voice made Stiles' neck jerk to look at him, lips falling open as he watched the anger boil in the confines of his co-pilots body.

His uncle closed his eyes as his shoulders shrugged and he laughed silently to himself, "Alright, alright, Jesus, relax. Now, since Stilinski decided to supply me with more information than I needed, let's discuss the serious shit." 

Derek breathed out a deep sigh and shifted to pull one of his legs up to cross over the other. Stiles swallowed uncomfortably and fiddled with his nail beds as Peter sat up straight and pulled out his phone, swiping across the screen a few times before he nodded, "Ah, yes. So, you'll be doing an interview with Dorothy Hamilton, you know her sad excuse for a political debate show?"  


Stiles and Derek both nodded. 

"She's going to try and ask you about how you feel about the progression of technology when it comes to the Jaeger weaponry and of course when you answer she will direct the question towards the Russians and-"  


"Avoid any conversation about pilots dedicated to other countries at all costs," Derek interrupted, waving his index finger in the air, "Yes, Peter we're not stupid."

Peter rolled his eyes, dark lashes blinking again and again, "Are you ever going to grow out of being perpetually angry or is this just your default-"

"Peter," Derek warned through a growl. 

Stiles shifted again, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as the two bickered. As uncomfortable as the situation had been, it was hard not to laugh because all in all Peter was right. Derek did need to lighten up when it came to most things.

"Okay, so Dorothy Hamilton at seven o'clock, that'll be on the fourteenth of September. According to the war clock there should be a breach about forty-eight hours before so that's when you two will go public, the interview will be your first debut and then of course the after-party will be held at..." Peter flicked his finger against the screen of his phone and squinted, "XS Nightclub at... The Wynn."

"Vegas?" Stiles' voice was choked and he sucked in a breath through his nose, "We're... This is happening in Vegas? Are we allowed to- I mean aren't we supposed-"

"There will be plenty of pilots here in case there's a freak breach," Peter raised his brows as Stiles stared down at his lap and sifted through one thought after another. "So, now that that's over. Ground rules," Peter's gaze flicked from Stiles to Derek and back again, "Don't be fucking stupid and get yourselves thrown in jail and that's about it. Anything else I can get you out of. If, however, you make a complete ass out of yourself, expect to roll with the persona of a complete ass because that is how I will sell you. I can polish, prim and beautify you to the nines but I can't fix personality defects," he gestured with his open palm to Derek, "Living proof of that is sitting on the couch next to you." 

Stiles tried to stifle the small chuckle that fell from his mouth and licked across his lips when he looked over to see Derek, once again staring blankly at the ceiling. It was obvious that he wanted nothing more than for the conversation to end and for Peter to take his leave so he could retreat back into the room across the hall. 

"He's not defective," Stiles mumbled softly.

Derek's eyes opened but he didn't move, he just breathed in and out in steady, long breaths.

Peter tilted his head to the side and blinked at the two before rising to his feet, "Well, anyways, Stiles," he extended a hand which Stiles gripped, "It's been a pleasure. I'm a phone call away if you need anything." The kindness in the man’s voice seemed genuine and as much as Stiles wanted to hate Peter, there was something about the man that made him feel safe. 

Maybe it was his degree in law, Stiles didn't know.

A strong hand clasped over Derek's shoulder and Peter shook him playfully, "Oh, c'mon," he purred through a small laugh, "I'm still you're uncle. Let's get a beer soon." 

Green eyes lifted and he arched a brow, head jerking back slightly but Peter rolled his eyes and gripped harder, "Seriously." His voice was softer than it had been all morning and after a moment Derek nodded, "I'll call you." Peter nodded back and gave a two-fingered wave to Stiles as he walked down the short hallway and out of their apartment.

Their apartment. 

The flood of nerves that had taken a hiatus during the painful interaction with Peter Hale cascaded back over Stiles like a tidal wave. It was quiet and he could hear the soft pull of air between Derek's lips as he breathed. He shouldn't be this bashful around the man who had been in his head, literally, more than a few times now. Derek knew more about him than anyone else ever would.

"I'm sorry," Derek's voice broke the silence and Stiles continued to look down at his fiddling fingers, "Peter's not... he's not that bad. It's just in his nature to be an invasive dick."

Amber eyes blinked up from behind the lenses of his glasses and Stiles nodded, "You don't have to apologize for him. Let's uh..." he glanced over his shoulder to the kitchen and pushed himself off the couch with his hands, "Let's see if there's anything in here to cook before we go train." 

Derek respected the ranger’s transition of subjects and nodded softly to himself as he heard the fridge open. He laughed silently as a grin spread across his mouth when Stiles gasped sharply, "Oh my god! Derek, holy... organic spinach, celery, carrots, mixed greens, peppers-" he opened the freezer and Derek audibly laughed as Stiles yelped loudly when a container of ice cream came toppling out. "Jesus, I haven't seen this much food in my entire life. I don't even know where to start," the pilot scrambled to pick it up and set it back in the freezer as he shot a smile over to Derek who stood and was rolling the sleeves of his shirt up passed his elbows.

"Move," he mumbled, shoving Stiles playfully away with his hip. 

Stiles swayed on the balls of his feet and pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He watched Derek carefully as he paced around the open space of the kitchen, opening cupboard after cupboard until he found a skillet and a bowl. It was strange to see the man in a domestic setting, to see him comfortable and calm. Things like Derek being able to cook were exactly the kinds of things that Stiles was afraid of.

His heart fluttered momentarily and he tried to swallow down the cluster of nerves crawling up passed his vocal cords.

"You like omelets right?" Derek blinked over at his co-pilot whose lips were slightly parted as he trailed his eyes from the socks on the alphas feet to the now bunched up material above his elbows. He shook his head once before nodding and raising a hand to rest over his mouth, "What? Yes. Yes, I like omelets." 

Derek's lips curved up into the ghost of a smile and Stiles stared at the ground before he was once again pushed gently to the side, "I need to get in the fridge. Peppers, onions, cheese?"

"No cheese on mine," Stiles piped, tilting his head to the side as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the counter top next to a key rack hanging on the wall. Derek's eyebrows rose as he wrinkled his nose and shook his head back and forth, "What? You don't like cheese?"

"No, I love cheese. I just only eat it on the weekends."

"You're joking."

"No! I'm not genetically perfect like you, okay?" Stiles waved his hands in the air, "I stick to a diet during the week and I cheat on the weekends, a lot of people do-"

"You're weird."

"I'm not! Oh my god, I'm finally in somewhat good shape, I'd like to keep it that way."

Derek stopped whisking the eggs in the bowl and turned, his hand resting on the counter top, "Somewhat?" 

A furious blush darkened Stiles' face and he stumbled over his words, "Y-yeah, yes. Yes. Somewhat. I'm not like-"

"Shut up," Derek barked a laugh and squeezed his eyes shut as he turned back to what he was doing and continued to shake his head and laugh when Stiles tried to object.

He didn't quite know if his co-pilot had just complimented him or insulted him but Stiles adjusted his glasses and huffed a breath as Derek cooked before walking over to the small breakfast bar that distinguished the living room from the kitchen. He hoisted himself into one of the modern black chairs and propped his elbows up on the counter to rest his chin in the palm of his hands.

Stiles didn't want to watch the way Derek's sweats hung off the line of his hips, he didn't want to smile at the way he scratched at the scruff on his face while he poked at the eggs sizzling on the skillet and he most definitely did not want to watch the way his co-pilot ran his fingers up through the back of messy dark locks. 

"So you seriously do not want cheese-"

"Derek!"

The alpha laughed and slid the fresh omelet onto a square dish before he placed it in front of Stiles. Amber eyes grazed across his breakfast and he forked a piece into his mouth as Derek ate his straight from the skillet, "It's really good but- hey! Really? Were you raised in a barn, what the hell are you doing?" 

Derek's eyes flicked back and forth before he took another bite and shrugged, turning his back to Stiles and ignoring him completely. 

"The man who won't eat cheese during the week," Derek picked up the skillet by the handle and glanced over his shoulder, "is asking me what the hell I'm doing."

Stiles growled a curse at him, "You're rude and you have no manners," the pilot hissed, but Derek wasn't listening and he kicked the doors of his room shut, leaving Stiles to eat on his own. 

\------------------------------

Their training session went by smoothly and quickly, Stiles ran on the treadmill and stretched while Derek sparred with Allison on the mat in the middle of the room.

He wanted light-weight thoughts, thoughts of Danny, of Brown, of his father and the small house he had in Malibu. He wanted to focus on his friends, on Erica's sassy smile and Scott's witty attitude. Stiles didn't want to be stuck in the round-a-bout that circled the overwhelming reality that soon, very soon, he would be face to face with a Kaiju.

A real Kaiju. Not some hologram in the simulation room. A beast sent from another dimension to try and eradicate their species. Stiles pressed the button on the treadmill and sprinted faster.

His stomach was in knots and he could feel the unsettled panic squirming in-between his ribs, rubbing across his kidneys, curling around his lungs and squeezing. Blunt teeth dug into his bottom lip but released soon after so Stiles could continue to suck in breath after breath. Fear wasn't something he typically had a hard time over-coming and usually it only took a few messy pep-talks with himself or some kind of push and he would be fine. He would walk into whatever it was with an open mind and listen to the echo of the two words that got him to Shatterdome in the first place.

What if.

But this was a Kaiju, and in the end, Stiles knew that nothing would stomp out the fear radiating from within him. 

"Hey," Allison's voice interrupted the song by Seven Lions that was beating into the speakers of Stiles' headphones and he slowed his pace before stepping onto the padded ground. 

"Hey," he nodded, sucking in air to catch his breath before he placed his well-worn black rimmed glasses back on his nose, "What's up, where did Derek go?" He squinted and shifted to look passed her but there was no sign of his co-pilot in the gym.  


The combat specialist shrugged, "Apparently he's going out with Peter for a drink or something."

Stiles blinked as his head tilted to the side, "Oh," he pursed his lips and his eyebrows pulled together, "Okay. Well..." Long fingers moved to rake through his hair and the ranger chewed absently on his lip but Allison poked him in the stomach, "I don't know if you're interested but Lydia and Newt have some information on the Kaiju that they'd be more than happy to share since you'll be out on the field soon."

He shifted uncomfortably at the thought but nodded, "You think it's a good idea?"

Allison nodded, "Raleigh wants you to get to know Kaiju anatomy anyways since you'll be analyzing their vocal patter." 

A chill ran down the length of Stiles' spine and he sucked in a long breath through his nose when he finally noticed the burn in his lungs and remembered to breathe. He had completely forgotten, completely dismissed the thought that he was more than just a Jaeger pilot. Stiles had skills that Raleigh and the Marshalls wanted to put to use, comprehending that thought was much more than he could handle.

"I, uh... I forgot, about all of that," Stiles tried to feign a laugh but it came out forced and deliberate. Allison's soft hand rested on the base of his shoulder, "Don't worry," deep brown eyes locked onto his, "You'll be fine and Raleigh doesn't expect you to get it right off the bat. Just focus on getting through your debut."

Stiles breathed out through his mouth and nodded shallowly as she continued, "The things Lydia and Newt study will still be helpful," her smile was soft and she pulled him gently as they walked towards the doors of the gymnasium, "every Kaiju is different but having some knowledge of their past weaknesses can be good to know." 

Stiles said nothing, just nodded dumbly and tried to keep his hands from shaking as they walked down the hall.

\------------------------------

"You think he's ready," Peter's voice was like silk and he glanced at Derek over the scratched up wood table top of a booth in a bar just outside of Shatterdome. The older man lifted a green bottle to his lips and arched a brow when Derek didn't respond. "Hey, c'mon," he reached over to push his nephews shoulder, "stop shutting me out."

The pilot tapped his fingers against the glass of dark liquid on the table and shook his head, "I don't know," his voice was soft, "I don't know if either of us are ready."

Peter's eyes softened and he tapped on the table, "Hey, Derek, look at me."

The pilot’s eyes lifted as he bit down on the inside of his lip and continued to run his fingertips across the rim of his beverage. It wasn't just Stiles who wasn't ready for this. It had been close to a year since the last time Derek had been inside a Jaeger and that experience had driven him to do things he never thought he would be capable of. He had never once thought that packing his things and running back home, leaving behind the people who had been there for him through so much would even be an option. But after that last fight. After Jackson... Nothing seemed more appealing.

"You're one of the strongest men I know, and one of the best. You've been through a hell of a lot, but," Peter offered something of a smile as he rested his elbows on the table, "You can't keep punishing yourself. What happened on K-2-"  


"What happened on K-2 didn't need to happen. Jackson didn't deserve- I should have-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Derek," Peter leaned back in his seat and waved to the cocktail waitress, gesturing to his beer and thanking her when she dropped another off at the table, "it was a double event that no one was ready for and they sent you and Gipsy out blind. What happened was no one’s fault."

Derek's lips pursed into a thin line as his eyes retreated back to the table before he took a long sip off his drink. He wanted to be angry; he wanted more than anything to have the strength to slam his fist into the side of Peter's face, but it was true. Every word. It wasn't anyone’s fault that Jackson died and Derek didn't have any argument for that. The restless feeling in his bones was something else, though. Something that made him believe that it should have been him lying on the beach on that cold September morning, and it should have been Jackson that lived. 

The thought felt like burning coals behind his eyes and he swallowed, “I know,” his voice was raspy and he looked at Peter who blinked back at him and nodded, “I know you know, that’s the most frustrating thing about you. You’re smart and you’ve got character, you just keep yourself all-“he waved his index finger lazily, “locked away.”

Derek simply nodded and stared at his phone when it vibrated on the table.

 **Stiles Stilinski Septermber 1, 2031, 5:02 P.M  
** you doing okay?

Jungle eyes flicked back and forth across the screen before Peter cleared his throat and he glanced up.

“Stiles?”

Derek nodded before he picked up his phone and typed out a quick ‘yeah’ and hit send.

“That kid’s got a fire in him,” the older Hale watched Derek from under an array of dark lashes, “maybe he’ll be able to thaw you out.” 

The pilot snorted and rolled his eyes even though the words made his insides constrict. The alpha cracked his knuckles and shifted in his seat when he sat the phone down, only glancing up once to find Peter’s eyes settled on his phone as well. His uncle tapped against his chin, a sigh falling across thin lips, “Could be fate, you know, Becket dragging you out here to meet this kid, finding you a new co-pilot, getting you back out there. It might be destiny.” His words were playful and he arched a brow when Derek sat back in his chair and set his glass back against the soft pout of his bottom lip.

“Fate’s a bullshit concept, and destiny? Destiny’s a blind man’s promise to civilians,” the pilot muttered, before he blinked down and trailed his eyes across his phone as it lit up again.

 **Stiles Stilinski Septermber 1, 2031, 5:11 P.M  
** if you need an escape plan feel free to use me

Derek couldn’t help but smirk and looked back up to Peter through a small smile that pulled at the edges of his lips, “He’s not a kid.”

\------------------------------

Stiles let out a puff of frustrated air as him and Allison made their way towards the back of Shatterdome, passed the storage units and to the array of laboratories that occupied the far end of the large base. Dark brown eyes blinked at him questioningly and the beta simply shook his head, “I ask him if he’s alright and all I get is ‘yeah.’ Not that I should really be expecting much, the guy’s like talking to an iceberg sometimes.”

Allison’s eyes rolled and she shook her head, loose brunette curls bouncing around her shoulders, “He’s quiet and stubborn, but he’ll open up. It just takes time and patience, I mean, when I met him he was shy and a lot younger but after a while I guess I grew on him. You’ll see,” she winked and Stiles narrowed his eyes. 

“I think I’ve heard him laugh like four times, Allison. Four. Maybe five, but that’s a stretch,” he chuckled through the last few words and she nodded, a ‘yeah, yeah’ slipping casually from between her lips, “I know, I know, but like I said, give him time. He has his moments and we’ve all had a lot of fun together in the past, a lot of things just… fucked that up.” 

He nodded and shrugged before heaving a deep sigh, “I understand… I’ve been there, I felt it,” he choked on a couple words and the field specialist nudged his shoulder, “I know you have,” she whispered gently, “and he knows that. He’s just… he’s still feeling it every day. I see it every single time I look at him and it makes me… it hurts. It hurts more than I thought it would.”

Stiles blinked and tilted his head to the side, apologizing quickly to a woman in a lab coat that he accidentally bumped as they walked down a now stark white hallway, “What do you mean?”

Allison’s shaky breath was a warning but she shook her head and played with the edges of her tank top, “He was always the strong one. The grounded one. It’s just hard to see him torn up over something that wasn’t his fault. It’s… it’s hard for me to see him still be so affected and to know that I have no idea what he’s feeling.” She glanced up at Stiles whose lips were parted and he reached up to fidget with his glasses, now quite ashamed of his curiosity.

He wanted to press, to tell her everything inside Derek’s head, to give her the insight that was obviously taking a toll on the woman’s emotions, but the ranger stayed quiet. It was natural for her to want to share Derek’s pain, to take some of the load but Stiles knew those emotions, felt that guilt, lived that remorse and he knew that in the end it was better to keep it locked away in the archives where Derek lingered day to day.

The lab wasn’t what Stiles expected. He arched a brow as Allison pushed the door open and ushered him inside to a dimly lit dark room. Large glass enclosures filled with preserved Kaiju flesh and organs were scattered around the expanse, along with smaller test tubes containing Kaiju blue, nail clippings, eyes, scale shavings and a few other things that Stiles couldn’t make out. He wrapped his arms around his chest and Allison’s eyes flicked up to his when he brushed against her, “You okay?”

“Absolutely not. What the fuck is this shit?” 

Soft laughter interrupted them and he heard the swivel of a chair from behind a stack of paperwork, “I felt the same way when Stacker brought me back here for the first time,” Lydia craned her neck and offered a wide smile, “There’s nothing like Kaiju intestines to go along with your Christian Dior manicure, right?” She picked at her nails through a small chuckle and stood up, heels clicking across the floor as she walked towards them.

“You work back here?” Stiles’ brows furrowed and he tilted his head to the side in an attempt to put together how someone like Lydia could possibly work in such a strange environment, “I mean, what do you-“ 

“Well after I graduated from Berkeley, Stacker found out I had my Masters in Folklore and he helped me get my P.H.D in Mythological Studies while I assisted Newt on the progression of Kaiju studies. That was before he passed away…” her smile faded momentarily and she tapped on the glass of one of the large enclosures. 

A tentacle slapped against the side of the tube and Stiles squirmed, covering his mouth, “Yeah, that’s not okay…” 

Lydia rolled her eyes and tapped gently, cooing softly, “It’s harmless, Stiles. But, anyways, I’m still working with Newt and I’ve put together a few theories but nothing solid. Ancient scribes and manuscripts all talk of beings that come from the sky, not from the sea, but,” she held up an index finger and walked over to the desk she had been seated at before. It was covered in designs, folders, papers and… Stiles, squinted, pulling Allison with him as he followed Lydia, “Is that… That’s Latin, isn’t it?”

The red-head blinked as cherry stained lips pulled into a half-smile, “Yes, it is, and I’ve been trying to figure out what it means, because it means something, but here look, the ancient Samarians carved hieroglyphics into the walls of their caves, I actually just got back from another trip out there,” she narrowed her eyes and shuffled through a few papers before snatching one up and nodding, “This is what I found.”

Stiles took the paper carefully and pushed his glasses up, “These are the hieroglyphics?” 

She nodded and Allison curled a hand over Stiles shoulder, leaning up to peek over at the paper as well. The pictures were clear and Stiles glanced across the carvings before amber eyes moved to the photo-copied Latin scribe pinned to a board above the desk.

“These,” Allison reached over and pointed to what looked like stick drawings of human beings, “and then… dinosaurs-“

“That’s what we thought, that was until Newt,” her voice deepened and she yelled over her shoulder, “drifted with a god damn Kaiju-!“

“Shut up Lydia!” A squeaky voice called from a room connected across from Lydia’s desk. A head popped out from around the corner and Newton Gesizler’s eyes crinkled behind his glasses from the large grin that occupied most of the room on his face, “I made history and there’s nothing you can say that will make me regret it.”

Lydia’s mossy green eyes rolled and she sighed, pointing back to the paper, “Anyways, that is what we thought but-“

“But!” Newton darted to the woman’s side and Stiles arched a brow, glancing at Allison who held her open palms flat against her chest, “He’s a little eccentric,” she whispered against the rangers shoulder through a stifled laugh.

“They weren’t dinosaurs, not all of them at least. From what I saw and from the… well, the PTSD-“

“Back-lash,” Lydia bit, eyes pointing from Newton to Stiles and back again. The scientist paused slightly and they both turned their focus to the beta who blushed and ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his head, “I’m not offended, just- and then what? What did you see?”

Stiles bit down on the inside of his cheek and shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants to conceal the nervous tick that radiated through his fingertips. Post traumatic stress disorder. That wasn’t a term most people used on base and to think of back-lash as something so real-world and categorized made him feel like he should be medicated, socialized, normalized. Something about it made the terminology instill the idea that he had already been damaged. Like the war that he had yet to step into had already broken him.

“Well,” Newt walked over and leaned against one of the large enclosures and turned a knob on the top of the tank to the left which made the sallow light illuminating the floating organs turn a deep red, “This is part of a Kaiju’s second heart, if you look closely you can see that-“ he pointed to a deep cavity that was compressing bubbles of ammonia-infused water with soft erratic movements, “it’s damaged. And it’s not damaged because of how we removed it.”  


Allison’s eyes widened, “It’s damaged because it’s a replica of-“

“Yes!” Newton was much too excited and he pointed his index finger at her through a shout and a laugh, “They are simple designs, tweaked and modified from the original blueprints to simulate the Kaiju that have already been here years before.”  
Lydia’s heels tapped against the floor and she nodded when Stiles looked over once more to the script on the wall, “But… they evolve each time. They mimic our weaponry.“

“Exactly,” Newt and Lydia spoke in time and the small man glanced over at her before arching an eyebrow, “The same way they mimicked the hide, bone structure and force of the dinosaurs and the animals of today. The only thing that’s different-“

“They all have oceanic qualities,” Stiles breath was shaky and he un-pinned the manuscript from Lydia’s work board, eyes trailing across the foreign words. He read them again and again, piecing the letters together like a puzzle and inhaled sharply through his nose when he finally realized what he was reading. “This is just a copy, right? What’s the original from?” Stiles blinked over to Lydia who shrugged, “Pentecost gave it to me when I first started, he said it was a reminder to have faith.”

Stiles cleared his throat.

“The beast from out of the sea is given authority to rule over the earth, the people of earth marvel the beast's abilities and worship him and ‘the dragon’, saying ‘who is like the beast? Who can make war against him?’” Amber eyes lifted to Newt whose smile had faded and Allison’s eyes narrowed, “You can read-“

“World language major, Allison. Remember?” Stiles mumbled, pinning it back up to the board.

“That’s from the bible,” Lydia breathed, looking to Newt through parted lips as he tilted his head to the side and rolled up the sleeves of his long sleeved shirt to expose the intricate tattoos carved into his flesh.

“Revelations,” Allison added as she handed the picture of hieroglyphics back to Lydia. It was silent for a moment, an eerie quiet that made Stiles want to barricade himself in his new room and blast music until he forgot all about what was going on in the world. The more real it became, the more he realized that no matter how glamorous the job, being a Jaeger pilot meant defeating Kaiju, and that biblical verse did nothing but remind him of how human they all were.

Newton’s eyebrows lifted and he clapped his hands together, “Well, that’s weird and really, really fucking creepy, but I don’t have time to WWJD this whole situation, right now me and you-“ he pointed a finger at Lydia, “Need to show mister…” he waved a hand at Stiles and narrowed his eyes.

“Stiles,” the pilot sighed as his gaze rolled towards the ceiling. 

“Now we need to show Stiles what these beautiful monsters are made of.” 

\------------------------------

 **To: Derek Hale**  
 **From: Stiles Stilinski September 1, 2031, 6:14 P.M**  
You did not tell me that you got bit by one of those kaiju flea things before

**To: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **From: Derek Hale**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:17 P.M**  
Shut up.

**To: Derek Hale**  
 **From: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:21 P.M**  
nothing to be ashamed of, just a little alien tick. no biggie.  
this newt guy is all over the place, has he always been like this?

**To: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **From: Derek Hale**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:23 P.M**  
Yes. 

**To: Derek Hale**  
 **From: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:26 P.M**  
you’re so good at conversations, derek

**To: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **From: Derek Hale**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:31 P.M**  
Shouldn’t you be paying attention?

**To: Derek Hale**  
 **From: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:34 P.M**  
he’s just going over basics, aquatic tendencies, old kaiju tactics from otachi, knifehead, you know

**To: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **From: Derek Hale**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:46 P.M**  
When will you be home?

**To: Derek Hale**  
 **From: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:47 P.M**  
awww, are you cooking again? :]

**To: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **From: Derek Hale**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:51 P.M**  
No.

**To: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **From: Derek Hale**  
 **September 1, 2031, 6:52 P.M**  
I’m ordering Pizza.

Stiles frowned at his phone and wrinkled his nose as him and Allison stood in the large dark laboratory. Newt had drilled into his head over and over that there was no strategy for overcoming a Kaiju because of their ever-evolving body types but Lydia assured him that she would do her best to find out whatever she could by the heat signatures and sonic waves produced by the breach. Sometimes she could get outlines, she called them echoes, of the beast before it surfaced. Almost like an imprint or a silhouette. The PPDC had placed a machine on the bottom of the ocean near the breach that used sonar to beam out signals and capture whatever impression vibrated back. 

“So all this talk about Dinosaurs, is Newton trying to prove that there was more than one breach…?” Allison tilted her head to the side and looked to Lydia as she walked back into the room. Bright eyes blinked from under long mascara coated lashes and the red-head shook her head, “Oh, no. That would be my theory.”

Allison stumbled over her words and Stiles’ brows furrowed but he nodded and reached up to snatch the glasses off his face and clean them with the tail of his shirt, “It only makes sense. When you think about it, if these… things, did breach millions of years ago than wouldn’t the remains be more marine based if they had crawled through a hold in the Pacific Ocean like they are now?” 

The combat specialist sighed softly and watched Stiles as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his back against one of the large enclosures. 

“It does make sense but what would have-“

“The comet. A dramatic shift in the climate and environment could have easily forced the window to close and besides, like Newton said we hadn't contaminated our atmosphere to their liking yet. As soon as they noticed that we had fucked everything up enough they pushed through again, this time hidden in the sea.” 

Allison couldn't argue with Lydia and she nodded along with her words as the woman pulled out a Top Shop lipstick and smeared it across her mouth.

It was hard to imagine, to think that the human race had been on the edge of world domination since they drug their knuckles out of the caves. Stiles swallowed painfully and stared at the ground, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. It was a jagged pill to swallow, a filthy, hurtful, horrible pill. To know that in the end Stiles could be fighting an unbeatable war. An unresolvable cause. 

“Well, apparently Derek’s ordering food so I’m gonna head home,” the last word dropped in his stomach, home, it still hadn't quite settled that it was so permanently attached the Derek. His ribs squirmed and he shifted uncomfortably, leaning off the tank in time for a large textured tentacle to slap noisily against the glass. Stiles jumped, a few curses falling from his lips before he thanked Lydia and called a ‘thank you’ to Newt who was working in the other room. 

“Anytime! If you ever need to talk-Kaiju with anyone, I’m always in here!” The high-pitched voice hollered back and Lydia rolled her eyes, “He’s not kidding, he’s always in here. He doesn't leave.”

Newton yelled something at Lydia who continued to shake her head back and forth while sporting an all-knowing witty smile. Allison hugged her goodbye and walked with Stiles out into the hallway.

The tired ranger pulled his fingers messily through his hair and smiled sheepishly as Allison wrapped her arms around his torso and shook him playfully, “Is Derek ordering pizza?”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed and he snorted, “How’d you know?”

“It’s a staple food in his diet.”

The ranger groaned and swayed Allison back and forth from foot to foot, “Well, looks like I’m gonna have to get used to the smell of calories then,” he arched a brow and she nodded through the ghost of a grin before he released the woman and turned to head towards the back exit of the base, “I’ll see you later?” 

He glanced over his shoulder and the brunette nodded softly before heading back into the lab to find Lydia. 

\------------------------------

Thoughts swarmed his mind like a hive of bees with the static of words being replayed again and again between his ears. From the theory that Kaiju could have, at one point, breached on land, to the idea that he would be in a Jaeger in less than two weeks and then the reality that while in the Jaeger, Stiles would have to analyze alien vocal patterns was a lot to take on. The pilot hadn’t felt as out of place as he did in that moment, walking across the asphalt towards the three tall buildings settled on the outskirts of the base, since he first stepped off the plane and arrived in Hong Kong. Stiles shook his head before he breathed out a small sigh and pushed open the glass doors, glancing at the lobby as he paced down the hall towards apartment number 113.  


Their apartment was quiet when Stiles walked in and rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses as he glanced around. Two pizza boxes sat on the counter top of the breakfast bar and a soft melody drifted from down the hall where Derek’s doors were cracked open.

He was hesitant as he followed the sound and kicked off his boots before he peeked his head around the door and let his eyes drift around the room. It was moderately the same layout of Stiles’, except Derek had a small private patio where he was currently sitting with his feet propped up on the wall and a book in his lap. Small ferns and plants were set around the quaint outdoor expanse and Stiles listened as his co-pilot sang along quietly to an old song by an artist he used to listen to in high school.

Stiles feet padded softly against the carpet and amber eyes moved over the dark comforter on Derek’s bed to the black furnished lamps on both night stands. The sliding glass door was open, letting a crisp breeze float through the room, Stiles cleared his throat, “I didn't know you listened to Wild Cub.”

Derek jerked, jungle eyes wide and alert as he inhaled a sharp breath and exhaled it as a sigh, eyelashes lowering when he shook his head back and forth. Stiles arched a brow, “Didn’t mean to scare you,” his voice was low and he leaned against the glass door, smirking when Derek rolled his eyes and folded the corner of a page in the book he had been reading, “You just startled me- and yes, Raleigh got me into them a while ago.” The alpha stood and brushed passed Stiles, glancing over his shoulder to watch as the younger pilot bent down to brush his fingers across the leaves on one of the potted shrubs Derek had on his patio.

“I got you pizza,” Derek’s voice was smooth but he looked at the ground when Stiles lifted his chin and glanced back at him, “it’s this low-carb, veggie, healthy thing. I don’t know. If you don’t like it-“

“It sounds good,” Stiles interrupted the rangers rambling before he stood to walk passed him towards the kitchen. Derek’s feet made soft sounds behind him and he stood next to Stiles when he opened the box and snatched a piece of the whole-wheat pizza, taking a bite. Derek’s eyebrows rose and his lips twisted, “Does it taste like the shit they feed rabbits?”

Stiles swatted him in the chest through a mouthful of a laugh, “No, you ass, it tastes like pizza! What is wrong with you, how do you even stay,” he waved a hand over his torso and poked playfully through Derek’s shirt at the hard muscles on his abdomen, “like this.”

Derek’s wide smile made Stiles stop chewing momentarily but before the alpha had the chance to answer; a knock came at the door. The two looked at each other and blinked, Stiles holding his hands up in front of his chest as he chewed on the crust of his pizza and Derek frowning before taking the initiative to walk over and open the door.

Scott didn’t wait for an invitation, he bounded through the door, arm swung around Derek’s shoulder as he went, “Hey, man! Happy house-warming!”

“No,” Derek’s lips pursed and he pushed Scott back towards the door but Erica blocked him as she swerved out of the way and slinked towards Stiles. The alpha pinched his lips tightly together when Scott hoisted himself onto the breakfast bar and turned to point his eyes dangerously at Boyd when he walked through the door. 

The pilot had a deep laugh and he offered a smile as he gripped Derek’s shoulder, “It was Scott’s idea.”

Derek growled, “I’m sure,” he bit as an angry glare was shot over his shoulder at the field specialist. Scott patted a bottle of some kind of alcohol and waved it tauntingly at Hale, distracted only by the entrance of Allison, Lydia and Isaac. The brunette was hesitant to step in and touched Derek’s arm gently before walking over to place herself between Scott’s dangling knees. 

Wide green eyes looked down to Lydia, watched as she smoothed her hands across the long simple dress draped over her small frame and breathed out a shaky sigh before her eyes darted up to his. “Hi, Derek,” she reached out to let soft fingertips wrap around his knuckles and it seemed like the entire room went still. His spine felt like it was about to melt into his legs and he felt nerves wash over the lining of his stomach before he swallowed, “Hey, Lydia.”

Her smile was as soft as the pads of her fingertips and the pilot felt himself leaning forward, before he realized what he was doing he felt the top of her head below his chin as she pressed gingerly against him. It had been almost a year since he had hugged Lydia and he forgot how comforting it could be.

Stiles smiled to himself and wrapped an arm around Erica’s waist when she leaned in to hug him, eyes focused more on the scene in front of the door than on anything else. It was beautiful to watch the two interact, to see Lydia and Derek move forward, even if it was slow progression, it was steady and it was something. 

Isaac was the last one through the door and he shot a half-smile to Derek as Lydia walked into the kitchen and leaned against the bar where Scott and Allison were. Boyd had his arms crossed as he stood behind Erica who was next to Stiles and Derek eyed them all carefully before huffing a sigh, “So you all just decide to show up at our house uninvited?” 

“It’s tradition! Lighten up, already. We brought booze, you guys are going to debut soon, you two have your own place now, it’s almost official!” 

Stiles arched a brow as he cleared his throat, “What’s almost official?” 

Scott scrambled to get off the counter and opened cupboard after cupboard before he found what he was looking for and lined short glass cups on the counter, filling them with a small amount of liquor. Nobody asked what kind of alcohol it was or why he was doing what he was doing, the group just watched and waited until he handed one out to each of his friends and walked back over to wrap his arm securely around Allison’s waist.

He raised his glass, a wide smile pulling at the edges of his lips, “To Team Lionheart,” his words were strong and Stiles felt something stir behind his rib cage as he bit down on his bottom lip, amber eyes lifting to find Derek starring back at him from across the room, “and to another revolution.” 

They lifted their cups and Stiles watched Derek’s lips pull into a smile before he pressed the edge of the glass to his mouth and let the liquid burn down his throat. 

The night went on for hours and Stiles swore he hadn’t laughed as hard as he had that night since he was a child. They sat in the living room, Scott and Allison on the recliner, Lydia, Isaac, and Boyd on the couch with Erica seated on the ground between Boyd’s knees. Derek had his back propped against the wall and Stiles was lounged across the rug next to the coffee table which harbored two nearly empty bottles. 

“What did it even feel like?” Scott was laughing through his words and Derek was trying to contain the smile splitting across his face as he shook his head back and forth, “It felt like someone shot me! Those things are disgusting-“

“And I had to give you intravenous anti-fungal medication for weeks,” Isaac groaned, eyes falling closed as he leaned his head back against the couch. Derek’s eyes squeezed shut and he rubbed at the scar on his arm as a visible shiver ran through him, “I remember, Isaac, trust me.” 

“Ew, you had alien fungus,” Scott stuck his tongue out and Allison slapped his leg when he started laughing again. 

It was strange to be in such a close intimate setting with his friends and Stiles could hardly imagine what it would be like to lose any of them. For a moment there, as they all laughed, the kind of laughing that sent them falling and rolling on the ground, he thought that maybe they were safe. Right now, in their living room, on a warm night in September, him and the people he had come to care about so passionately were on a planet that wasn’t being hijacked. They were somewhere else, somewhere that didn’t have underground safe zones, or sirens built into every building, somewhere where all of that had been put to rest and they could live and be young. 

But in the back of his hazy mind where his thoughts were still sharp and coherent, he knew that in the morning they would still wake up and this would still be Shatterdome and they would still have a war to win.

Amber eyes stayed fixed on Derek, on his co-pilots cheeks that shined a blistering red from the alcohol and on the wide grin that so rarely found a place on his face. He looked happy, buckled from laughing so hard it hurt, clapping his hands together as Scott and Boyd spit inside-jokes at him and told stories that Stiles only knew from Derek’s memories. It was beautiful, to sit back and watch him unfurl, to physically see his walls lower and to finally get the chance to value side of Derek that had been hidden away for far too long.

“Stiles,” Lydia’s voice was louder than normal and she snorted when she laughed which made Derek audibly chuckle, “Shut up Derek!” she pointed a finger at the alpha before turning her attention back to Stiles, “Do you, like tell me, are you uh- this is weird,” she snorted again and Stiles arched a brow when she reached for her near empty glass on the table. “You seem so… passive and delicate,” her eyes squinted and she stuck her tongue between her teeth, “are you…? Do you like, uh, guys that are more-“

“Oh my god, Lydia!” Scott yelled from across the room, “Is it queens or kings, bro?”

Stiles’ cheeks heated immediately and he hid his face in the long shag of the rug underneath him, groaning when Lydia pushed at the top of his head with her bare foot, “Tell me! I know Derek’s into like the feisty, hot, can take an' give kinda-“ her words came out as a squeak due to Derek crawling over to pull at her ankles, causing her to slide down the couch onto her rear. Ear splitting laughter filled the room and Stiles rolled onto his back clutching at his stomach as he sucked in breath after breath. Even Derek was laughing as he scolded her, wiping tears from his eyes and falling backwards on to the rug next to Stiles as Lydia curled up into Isaac’s legs. 

The doctor leaned down to stroke his hand through her hair and for a moment Stiles thought that he saw something in Isaac’s eyes. It was probably just the alcohol.

It was a good night, a night that made Stiles appreciate his life more than he ever had. It went on for a few more hours, hours of stories and memories that Stiles enjoyed listening to more than anything. He contributed here and there, answered questions about old relationships and his days back at Brown with Danny. 

The night winded down slowly and Stiles didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until he opened his eyes and blinked through the darkness. Allison and Scott were still tangled up on the recliner, Boyd and Erica had wrapped themselves on the floor and Isaac held Lydia close to his chest on the couch.

Stiles smiled tiredly and pawed at his eyes with the back of his hand, fumbling on the table to find his glasses before music softly pulled his attention down the hall to Derek’s closed doors. He stood, swaying slightly when he caught himself on the back of the couch as he paced down the hall and set his hand on the door, pushing it open to step inside.

“Derek…?” his voice was tinged with rasp and he stepped inside, straining his eyes through the dim light, “What are you- are you listening to The Cure right now, really?”

His co-pilot peeked around the sliding glass door and narrowed his eyes, “Weren’t you asleep?”

Stiles arched a brow when he noticed the small laugh hiding behind Derek’s words and he shrugged, walking forward to lean against the wall next to his dresser, “I was, then I woke up and noticed you weren’t there. I heard the music and…” he paused when Derek stood, exposing a pale bare chest as he walked forward. The same sweats he always wore were hanging dangerously low on his hips and Stiles couldn’t help but let his eyes swim across the ranger’s body. 

If he would have been sober he would have caught himself, he wouldn’t have let his breath hitch when Derek walked towards him and he wouldn’t have stumbled to brace himself further when his co-pilots hand hit the wall next to his face. Stiles could smell whiskey on his breath, mixed with the peppermint of his mouthwash and he swallowed when he inhaled a sharp breath full of oak and citrus from Derek’s all-too expensive cologne. 

Derek’s eyes were a world that Stiles wouldn’t mind getting lost in and he studied the contours of his face, the small knicks underneath the stubble across his jaw that he had given himself from shaving, the hollow of his cheeks and the flare of his nostrils. He was undeniably intricate and Stiles had completely lost himself in the wild beauty that was Derek Hale. 

He kept his hands flat against the wall, eyes flicking around Derek’s face, “and…?” the alpha pressed, voice soft like honey as his breath ghosted across Stiles’ mouth.

His mind grabbed at words, at actions, at anything and when he opened his mouth to speak the statement that fell from between his lips was not what he had planned. 

“…you’re so pretty,” Stiles’ voice was a whisper and the words were breathed out softly, as a complete accident. Amber eyes widened and dread washed over Stiles’ face; he pursed his lips, desperate to conceal the deep crimson blush that radiated across his cheeks. His teeth sank deep into his lip and as embarrassment nestled into his stomach and screeching brakes screamed in his mind. No. Stiles had never regretted drinking so much in his life. 

Derek’s eyebrows arched, lips pulled into a gin and before Stiles had the chance to say ‘wait’ he was buckled over on the floor laughing. The alpha sucked in air and Stiles shook his head, biting down on his lip to try and keep from laughing at himself as well. At least we’re drunk. It’s all he could say to himself to excuse his complete lack of self-control.

“How could I fuck this up,” Stiles breathed into the air as he slouched against the wall, listening to Derek laugh and hoping that this was something the alpha conveniently didn’t remember in the morning. His eyes shut and he hissed when a strong hand grabbed at the back of his leg and pulled roughly.

Stiles fell, finally giving into the laughter that was trapped in his throat, on the floor next to Derek who snorted and covered his face, swatting Stiles playfully in the chest, “I’m pretty?” his voice was soft and a chuckle concealed most of the last word. The beta wrinkled his nose and tried to keep himself from laughing but as he looked at Derek it was impossible, so he covered his face with the back of his hand and turned his head away, “You’re so pretty, Derek,” he sarcastically choked out the words, “You’re the prettiest pilot ever, okay?” 

Derek was sobbing out laughter and Stiles was chuckling quietly as he hid underneath his hand, trying to make sense of the situation, to understand exactly what had just happened. His mind was swimming through fog and he finally built up the courage to look over to Derek whose bright green eyes were fixed on him. A chill ran from the top of his head to his feet and Stiles cleared his throat, “I’m sorry.”

He didn't know what else to say and Derek’s eyes drifted closed as a coy smile played across his mouth, “Don’t be.”

He wanted to do something. To lean closer. To reach out and pin his co-pilots arms above his head. To put his mouth on the alphas throat. He wanted to do anything but lay there in the middle of the floor and stare.

Stiles’ breath hitched once more and he bit down on his lip, heart thundering loud and prominent behind his ribs. It felt like he was in a car heading straight for an oncoming train and his foot wouldn't let off the gas. His body was on fire, nerves like engines vibrating all the way to his center. 

Derek’s fingertips brushed across his forearm and Stiles’ lips parted.

“Stiles…” the way he said his name made Stiles want to lurch forward, but he kept his distance, only moving to drag his own digits across the top of Derek’s hand. 

“Yeah?”

Derek swallowed, eyes tired and heavy, “Thanks.”

There wasn't anything else to say, no words, no jokes, nothing. They laid there for a while in the darkness, Stiles studying the color of Derek’s eyes and Derek absently playing with the flesh of the beta’s wrist. He didn't know what the veteran ranger was thanking him for and it was too late and he was much too intoxicated to worry about it so he busied himself with dissecting the way Derek's hands felt tracing the bones along his thumb and wondered how someone so damaged could possibly be so soft.

It was silent in Derek’s room besides the sound of wind against the plants outside and the soft lull of music from a small ihome on the nightstand. Stiles closed his eyes, listened to the shallow inhale and exhale of Derek’s breath next to him on the floor and fell asleep as his co-pilot’s fingers gently gripped onto the bony knuckles of Stiles’ hand, lulled absently be the words of a familiar song.

Sad hopes I'd hidden under  
Tangled inside of me  
You spoke like broken thunder  
Deep into the center of me

\------------------------------

Notes:

For those of you who are wondering what song lyrics those at the end are it is Thunder Clatter by Wild Cub!

& if anyone didn't get the 'K-2' reference, in Pacific Rim K-Day was August 15, 2013 when the breach first happened and the Kaiju 'Trespasser' attacked San Francisco. K-2 is the date of the second breach which I will go into further detail about in the upcoming chapters

Thank you guys so much for all your love, you literally have no idea how much it means to me that you're enjoying this fic! <3

I live on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter Eight

Lydia's eyelashes felt like they had been coated in cement and they weighed down her eyelids, smeared with mascara and flaking black liner. She could still taste the alcohol from the night before and swallowed as she tried to clear her throat, wincing when she realized how hoarse her voice was probably going to be. It took a moment, a long, comfortable moment for the woman to notice that the soft patch of flesh where she was resting her cheek belonged to Isaac. His chest rose and fell in calm, even breaths and Lydia didn't know whether to close her eyes, let it lull her back into dreamless sleep or to try and scramble to her feet without waking him, run to her apartment in the building next door and hope that he didn't remember her ever being there.

A strong, gentle arm rested across her lower back and when the woman tensed she felt it tighten ever-so-slightly. Her knee was draped casually across his lap; dress hiked up around her thighs where it pooled next to her on the couch and as she curled her fingers, she found his wrist resting underneath the palm of her hand. Hazel eyes hesitantly mapped their way passed the dip of his collarbone to Isaac's square jaw and the puff of his bottom lip as he inhaled and exhaled. The red-head bit down on her bottom lip, eyes falling closed as she moved her leg to scoot away from the doctor as inconspicuously as she could. 

He purred softly and the sound coaxed a small smile to curve at Lydia's lips. She sat up slowly before she tried to retract her hand. His fingertips wrapped around her own, thumb dusting across the tops of her knuckles, "Don't go," his voice was whispered through the part of a tired grin, blue eyes cracking open to look up at Lydia whose cheeks had turned a frosted pink. The tightness in her chest constricted even further and she rubbed her lips together to try and busy her mouth before she attempted to speak. His gaze was patient, waiting, and she hated to look away from him but the wrench in her gut caused her eyes to flee. 

The words she had built dropped when he brushed across the silver band on her finger and she gasped, shakily snatching her hand up and clutching it to her chest.

Isaac's eyes didn't move away from her but he tilted his head to the side, "Lydia," his voice was a quiet comfort but she still shied away, stumbling as she got to her feet and babbled about how she needed to go. "Lydia, it's okay-" Isaac's expression tightened and he reached for her but found nothing but the brush of her dress as she picked up her shoes from under the coffee table and paced away. 

\------------------------------

The sound of the door closing is what pulled Derek out of his deep slumber. Green eyes flashed open and he squinted, blinking through the blurred outline of long fingers and an upturned nose. The alpha didn't move once his vision cleared, he simply stared at the man next to him. Stiles' hand was curled up next to his head and his nose twitched when Derek pulled his face out of the crook of his co-pilots shoulder. 

Derek had never been given the chance to truly study Stiles, to trace the line where his jaw met the curve of his ear, or to count the tiny moles that were splashed across his cheek. The ranger’s eyelashes were long and dark and his hair was messily tussled around his face against the plush off-white carpet. He wasn't what Derek had been expecting, he wasn't what Derek had wanted to find when he came back to Shatterdome and Derek wished more than anything that he didn't want to reach out and run his fingers down the length of his co-pilots throat.

But he did.

The alpha stayed still, delved into the sight of Stiles' shirt, rucked up over his stomach and his jeans, pushed down snug over the cut of his hip bones. Derek inhaled through his nose and pulled his leg from where it had been tangled between Stiles' knees so that he could scoot back and sit up on his elbow.

Stiles sighed in his sleep and Derek held his breath when the lanky young man curled himself forward, the warmth of his breath ghosting across Derek's chest.

It wasn't an uncommon feeling, the urge to flee, but as familiar and appealing as it seemed when Stiles' hand rose to brush across Derek's hip, the ranger refused to move. It was one of those moments where making a decision was the absolute worst option, where it seemed like a better idea to sit and enjoy the silence, to be okay with the misunderstood situation and to wonder.

Where the fuck did you come from

It was all Derek could manage to repeat in his mind until Stiles finally stirred and hooked his arm further around the alphas body, "You're like a furnace," his voice was sloppy and slid between his lips in a slur of tired half-conscious words. 

The veteran froze, unsure of whether or not Stiles knew what was going on, who he was holding onto and loudly cleared his throat. 

Amber eyes opened and Stiles blinked, once, twice, before his breathing ruptured and he moved back to look up at Derek. 

"Good morning," Derek was almost purring through a smirk as his eyebrows rose.

Stiles felt his heart pitter pattering against his rib cage, "I- uh... Hi, yeah," he ran his fingers through his hair and winced when the dull ache from last night’s indulgences began to surface right above the bridge of his nose. 

His nerves felt like splinters settled crooked in his skin and when Stiles glanced up at Derek, he felt them twist. Emerald eyes fell across him and the beta squirmed, removing his arm quickly before he tugged his shirt down, "So... Sorry for falling asleep on you- your floor! I'm uhm, I'm just gonna go-" 

Derek's hand stopped him, pressing down on his chest, anchoring him to the carpet. It took the wind out of Stiles and a small huff graced the quiet room when he fell on his back and stared up at the man who hovered above him. His face flushed. His body flushed. Every cell within him vibrated and for a moment he wondered if this was his second chance. If this was redemption for the fiasco that had gone on last night.

"You told me something the other night," Derek spoke and his voice hit Stiles like satin sheets, "you said if I had something to say, I should say it." 

Technically Stiles hadn't been able to finish his sentence due to Peter's arrival at the hotel but the fact that Derek remembered made his insides roll and twist. He nodded shallowly, honey optics flicking around Derek's face in a desperate attempt not to focus on his mouth.

A warm hand moved to grip Stiles' hip, thumb brushing over the patch of flesh to the right of his belly button. 

Stiles' breath shook and his mouth fell slack as he tried to protest, to find anything to say but nothing surfaced, nothing except the click of his tongue and the sharp inhale of air. 

The scratch of Derek's unshaven cheek brushed across his face and Stiles felt his throat constrict.

"Do you know what you are, Stiles?" Derek's mouth was pressed against his ear and Stiles couldn't move, could hardly breathe none-the-less find anywhere to put his hands which were at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching. 

Derek's weight pressed down, "You're infuriating and you're compelling and you completely dismantle me," his voice broke and he opened his mouth to continue, blunt nails digging into the skin on Stiles' hip, "you're smart and charismatic and so fucking annoying."

Stiles' eyelids fluttered when Derek pushed his face closer and he arched against his co-pilot, wishing to god he had more self-control. 

It was torture. The kind of torture that left him breathless with nerves like knives in the deepest parts of him. His stomach was doing flips, lungs tight and on fire until he reminded himself to take in a breath and keep his hands at his side. Because the moment they touched any part of Derek he would lose control of them. Stiles would lose control. As much as he wanted to fight the idea that losing control wouldn't be so bad, he knew in the end that it would. 

Derek turned, eyes fixed down on the man beneath him. His breath was warm and Stiles sucked in air, parted lips trembling, "What if-" the words slipped, like a child on ice skates, like a bar of soap in the shower, just slipped from Stiles before he had the chance to catch them. His chest was a blaze, and his teeth gritted when Derek's calloused fingers pressed down, thumb dipping below the hem of his jeans to dig into the soft cavity under his hip bone.

Stiles hissed, "Jesus Christ, Der-"

It wasn't what he expected. The feeling of Derek's mouth covering his, desperate and needy and completely untamed. Derek Hale did not kiss the way he spoke, soft and smooth. No, Derek kissed like he fought.

It was messy, brutal, heavy. It made Stiles want to bite, to claw, to get a hold of any piece of the ranger that he could, so he let his fingers unfurl and fisted a hand in Derek's hair, lifting his head to chase the alphas mouth when he pulled back. The ranger above him gripped his free arm before he slammed Stiles' wrist above his head, body grinding down against him with obvious intent.

Stiles felt his mind waver, like he had malfunctioned and every thought that he had been chasing that morning was vacuumed out, set aside in an attempt to process the prying lips that left him breathless and the sharp point of Derek's tongue that rubbed slowly against his own. 

It was strange, to feel the physical aspects of the person he had drifted with. Stiles had been inside Derek so many times, felt his pain, lived his memories, watched significant pieces of his life and they haunted him on a daily basis. To touch him. To feel him. It was an entirely new experience and it made Stiles wonder, made him want to find the untouched parts of Derek and press his hands against them, search for the shadows that lurked just out of reach and grip onto them like he was gripping onto Derek now.

He didn't realize how fast his heart was beating until he was hoisted up to his knees and Derek was growling into his mouth. The alpha busied his hands with the hem of Stiles' shirt, lifting and tugging until it was discarded, thrown absently somewhere in the room. 

Derek hadn't known the sound of his own name until Stiles breathed it, warm and fluid between his lips and god, did he make it sound beautiful.

Long fingers pressed into Derek's chest, pushing him back to fall against the carpet before Stiles slid a hand around the base of his jaw and gripped, lips crushing back against the alphas. It took Derek by surprise, the sudden change and he whined softly when Stiles rolled his hips and bit down bravely into his bottom lip. The young ranger was strong, with deliberate hands and a finesse that Derek didn't possess. His lips were soft and the way he tilted his head was a calculated maneuver to devour more of the pilot underneath him.

Derek didn't know he had been starving until he tasted Stiles, until he was pulling at the rangers shoulders and trying to catch his breath through the gaps between their lips as they pushed and pried at one another. It was fast, like they were at war with the clock, and Derek couldn't help but shamefully whimper when Stiles pulled away.

Amber eyes blinked down, pupils dilated and lips swollen, only to be graced by the side of his co-pilots face as Derek looked away. The alpha forced himself to lean his cheek against the carpet and try to calm his breathing, only failing once when Stiles slid his hand up the length of his side.

"Derek," his voice mangled the silence and Stiles hovered, staring down at the alpha whose eyes were pointed at the wall. Bony fingers pulled roughly at Derek's chin, and the veteran pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes as he blinked from under a thick line of dark lashes. Stiles tilted his head to the side, the pad of his thumb rubbing across Derek's bottom lip, "what the fuck was that...?"

Green eyes finally moved to Stiles and he swallowed, "I don't know." 

Stiles should have been expecting an answer like that, should've stopped himself before he rolled his eyes and his mouth went slack through a sigh, "Seriously? You just-" Stiles sat up, knees on either side of Derek's waist as he looked down, hand raising to run through his hair, "you're not going to acknowledge that we just-" Stiles waved his hands between the two of them and Derek's eyes rolled towards the ceiling.

"I acknowledge exactly what just happened," Derek murmured, gaze crawling from the soft shadowed definition of Stiles' stomach to the edge of his clavicles. 

Stiles huffed as his cheeks darkened but Derek just watched him, an eyebrow quirked playfully, "I also acknowledge that I am the prettiest pilot-"

"Are you serious-" Stiles interrupted him with a loud groan, pushing the alphas face with the palm of his hand before he stumbled to his feet and snatched his shirt off the ground. Derek had his arm thrown over his eyes and nose to cover his laughter, "Really, Derek? Really?"

Derek simply nodded, snorting, "Yes, really," his voice was choked by a chuckle and he smirked at Stiles from the floor, a part of him hoping that his co-pilot would walk out of his room, another part hoping that he would crawl back onto the carpet with him. Stiles glanced around, babbling angrily about how ridiculous Derek was before he found his glasses underneath the dresser and set them on the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not annoying, by the way," Stiles slid his shirt on, glaring at Derek as the alpha stood and walked towards the bathroom, nodding, "Yes, you are." 

Stiles' face burned, his hands trembled and his head was now pounding as the adrenaline from whatever-the-hell had just happened started to dissipate. He stared at Derek for a moment, found his eyes and kept his gaze there, "You're not allowed to act like this didn't happen." 

Derek's eyes narrowed and he said nothing, simply looked back at Stiles and shook his head.

"Oh my god, Derek, use your words!" Stiles held his arms out, heaving in breath after breath, only to be acknowledged by the bare flesh of Derek's back, decorated with the spiral of a tattoo and the sound of water running when Hale turned on the shower.  
Stiles bit down on his bottom lip as his chest continued to tighten and he grumbled something that Derek didn't catch, closing the door behind him as he walked out and paced down the hall, pausing next to the couch when he noticed that Isaac and Lydia were gone. 

"I'm pretty sure that's Derek's room," Erica's voice sounded tiredly from the ground and Stiles tried to keep a smile from leaking onto his face as he glanced down. Blonde hair was splayed messily around her face and she had her hand resting on Boyd's chest, drawing small circles across his abdomen.

Stiles rolled his eyes and shrugged, shaking his head back and forth, "Yes," he mumbled, "That's Derek's room."

"You slept in Derek's room?" the blonde yawned before a grin curled at the the sides of her mouth and she arched a brow dangerously high. 

Stiles tensed, lips pursed into a thin line, "Yeah," he bit down on the inside of his cheek and kept his eyes fixed on the woman. She watched him carefully, tilting her head to the side and nodded to him, as if she was asking him something without specifically asking, nudging him along with a flick of her brows. 

The beta couldn't help but roll his eyes as the smile he had tried to hide surfaced when he shook his head but her laugh told him that she knew exactly what had gone on this morning. 

"Don't you guys have somewhere to be?" Stiles called over his shoulder as he disappeared into his room. 

He leaned against the door as he closed it, exhaling a deep breath when his eyes searched the floor for some kind of answer. Any kind of answer. 

Deep honey eyes lidded and he ran his fingers through his hair, moving his gaze to the ceiling as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth again and again, "What the fuck just happened..."

Down the hall, gritting his teeth as freezing water stung at his shoulders and dripped down his back, Derek stood in the shower, eyes closed and breath shallow.

"What the fuck did I just do..." 

\------------------------------

The next couple weeks were filled with awkward glances and hardly any words. Sometimes when Derek would cook he would poke Stiles playfully in the stomach and other times when Stiles was doing yoga in the mornings, Derek would watch him shyly from the kitchen and Stiles would pretend he didn't notice. It was an on-going lack of communication. A day to day skirting of the subject.

They trained every day but Raleigh had them off of simulation due to the upcoming breach. Their minds needed to be fresh and ready for the Jaeger when the time came for them to rush the field. The thought of it made Stiles' stomach flip, made his insides scream and as much as he wanted to be strong, to be ready. He wasn't. He felt completely unprepared, weak, vulnerable and as encouraging as his quiet co-pilot tried to be, it didn't help. Especially seeing as every time Derek opened his mouth around Stiles, all the co-pilot could think about was that morning. The morning when Stiles should have been smart enough to push Derek off of him. The morning when Derek should have known better than to give in to an emotion that would only compromise them during drift.

They both knew it. They both understood it. But it didn't change Stiles' agitation and it didn't suddenly convince Derek to talk about it. 

"Hey," Derek's voice was soft, as usual, and his fingertips brushed along Stiles' lower back as he squeezed by to open the fridge in the kitchen, reaching in to grab a beer. He held one out to Stiles but his co-pilot shook his head. Derek sighed, "Come on," he nudged Stiles hand with the top of the bottle, "tomorrow..." his voice faded but he swallowed, "it's going to be fine."

The molten color of Stiles eyes always made Derek forget to breathe and as they rose to meet his gaze, he stared, fixated on the golden flecks riddled around the beta’s pupil. 

Stiles took the bottle, mumbling a thanks before he looked down, "Is it? Is it going to be fine?" 

The words took Derek by surprise, but he nodded, tilting his head to the side as he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a sip, "Yeah, it is."

The younger pilot analyzed him, eyes razor-sharp and completely guarded as he looked to Derek. Stiles wore his worry like scars on his face and tried to conceal his nerves by tapping his trembling fingers against the bottle. He saw it all. He saw how Stiles looked away, hid his anxiety behind an expressionless face and curled within himself.

It was hard to imagine that any time after midnight it could happen. Their phones could ring. The sirens could sound. It could happen. It would happen. 

Derek watched Stiles' face, saw him bite down on his lip and saw him flex his hand around the bottle to keep it from shaking. His eyes softened, mouth parted when he took in a breath, "Stiles-"

"Don't," his words were sharp and he put a hand on Derek's chest when the alpha tried to step forward. Gangly fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt, "I know, okay? We're gonna be fine. We're gonna kick ass." He feigned a smile through the last few words which made Derek visibly relax.

"You should try and get some sleep," Derek looked to the numbers shining white on the microwave, "It's late."

It was ten o'clock and Stiles knew he was right. They both needed to sleep, to try and relax. It was an ambitious idea. 

Stiles nodded anyways, retracting his hand from Derek's chest before he turned and walked towards his room, desperate to control his emotions, to control anything at all at this point.

He paced, texted Danny, called his Dad, stared at himself in the mirror until he realized he hardly recognized the man looking back. Strong features shadowed by an expression wrecked with doubt, hard, toned body that was still stretched to fit his lean stature. Dark hair was spiked messily this way and that on his head, he raised his hands, still the same, long knobby fingers he'd had since his sophomore year of high school.

The same but different. Familiar but foreign. Young but worn.

Strong but unprepared.

Completely human.

It was twelve twenty-three when the programmed alarm on the clock next to his bed rang out and he glanced at it, reading the words that flashed across the screen. 

**Category: 4 - Kaminari hyō**

**Pilots Report To Drivesuit Room Immediately**

**Prepare For Departure**

Stiles couldn't breathe, he couldn't talk, he couldn't do anything except stand and sway in the middle of his room. When he finally did convince himself to breath he inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth and closed his eyes. He wasn't expecting it to be so soon, he wasn't expecting it to be now. His mind screamed, body shook, legs grew weak, but he planted his feet and inhaled again through his nose, out through his mouth.

He threw on a shirt, looked at himself again in the mirror and nodded.

“You aren't a coward.”

The beta said it again and again to himself as the adrenaline continued to make its way deep into his bones, quieting the pleas from everything else inside him to crawl under his covers and pretend to be dead.

Derek didn't knock before he opened Stiles' door and his emerald eyes blinked up to his co-pilot who turned, facing him through a wrecked breath, "I guess we should get out of here."

The alpha nodded before he looked down to something, tossing it to Stiles who stumbled to catch it. The jacket was dark brown leather and he turned it over in his hands, eyes trailing across the emblem on the back. A lion, it's mouth open wide in a dangerous snarl with a grenade set on its tongue, the words Lionheart in red stitched above it. Stiles smirked and arched a brow, "We match." Derek nodded through a half-smile and turned to walk with Stiles out the door and towards the hangar. 

They didn't speak. They didn't look at each other. They just went through the motions. Walked across the polished floor where eyes trailed across them, chins raised, shoulders squared, footsteps in time and kept up the facade that they were fearless. 

It wasn't until Stiles saw Erica standing with Allison, Boyd, and Scott outside the doors of the Drivesuit Room that he felt his eyes sting and his chest once again begin to burn. He gathered himself in the last few steps, hugging Erica tight and wrapping his arms around Allison when she nuzzled her head into his chest. Scott slung an arm around Derek who was busy glancing around, eyes searching for someone imparticular. Boyd slapped his hand on Stiles' back and leaned forward, "If you need us, you call. You hear me? I don't care what Raleigh or the Marshalls say, we'll suit up, we'll be there." 

Stiles swallowed and tried to nod, "I know." 

Boyd offered a smile but Erica pulled Stiles' face with her hand, glaring at him from under her lashes, "It's okay," her words were soft and she leaned forward to press her face in the crook of his neck, "Just remember, you're a Jaeger pilot. You're a knight." 

Her words sent chills running down his arms and he smiled, shoving her playfully and nodding, "Yeah, yeah..." She smiled, her tongue stuck between her teeth and leaned into Boyd's shoulder as Scott walked up to hug Stiles tightly into his chest.

"We'll see you when you get back," the field specialist's eyebrows flicked and his lips twisted into a fond smile. Stiles stomach felt like it was filled with bats, his mind coiled around the faces of the people in front of him. He engraved each and every one of their features into his mind, from Erica's beautiful blonde curls, to Allison's breath taking smile, Scott's playful bright eyes and Boyd's protective, endearing smirk.

Heels clicked against the floor and Derek almost stumbled as he turned, eyes fixed on Lydia who walked forward with Newt beside her. The red-head hardly looked at Derek, she simply flipped through a few pages on a clip board and hummed quietly before nodding, "Kaminari hyō," her voice was smooth, "that would be 'thunder panther' in Japanese." 

Hazel eyes shot sideways to Newt, "As you can see, Newt named this one-"

"That's a bad ass name," he piped, eyeing Lydia as she cleared her throat to continue.

"It's a category four and from the recordings I have here it seems to be pretty large. There's nothing too specific I have to tell you except for that its allegedly feline in nature."

Derek and Stiles nodded through a warm, shaken breath and Derek blinked, fixated on Lydia like she was the only thing in the room. Her bottom lip trembled and it felt like someone had swung a baseball bat into the ranger’s lungs. 

The red-head hugged Stiles first, brief, with a small smile, before moving on to Derek. She hugged him, but no one understood just how tight, her fingers clawing into his back and her chest shaking. He pressed his nose into the top of her head, closed his eyes. "He'd be proud of you," her voice trembled and it shook him, shook him down to his core.

As the group stepped back and Stiles turned to walk after Derek through the large metal door, he felt a soft hand grip his wrist and pull him back. 

Lydia's eyes searched him, her lips parted as she took in a sharp breath, "You take care of him out there." Stiles' eyes stayed on hers, glancing down only once to the dog tags hanging around her neck before he nodded.  
Her words were almost too heavy to carry.

\------------------------------

The Drivesuit Room was on the top floor of Shatterdome and was the last stop before they were strapped in and set to drift. It was a small room and technicians hurriedly ran around, grabbing the neural registration suits, the black body suits and the outer skeletal armor. The suits were spread out on separate metal tables in front of two designated areas for dressing and un-dressing.

Stiles stood next to Derek as they were wrapped in the strange clothes, black armor clasped tight to their wrists and legs. Metal spines latched onto their backs and Stiles winced when one of the technicians pushed on the top of his chest and the flat of his lower back, locking the mechanism in place. The last thing to be applied was the chest pieces but before they could be ushered off to board to Conn-Pod, Isaac stepped through the door, a clip board in his hands, "Rangers," his voice was sharp and he pulled at Stiles' face, looking him up and down before he turned to Derek. 

"You two know the drill, just..." he paused, a small smirk playing across his lips before he gripped Derek's shoulder and patted Stiles on the cheek, "be careful. Avoid Kaiju Blue at all cost; remember that when the Jaeger takes damage you could ultimately be affected." 

They nodded and Isaac nodded back, "Get them to Conn-Pod," he glanced over his shoulder to one of the Drivesuit technicians and they flipped a switch on the wall, queuing two large doors to slide open.

The doctor watched them go, saw the slight tremble of Stiles' gloved hands and noticed Derek look over his shoulder, nodding to Isaac once more before the doors shut.

The Conn-Pod was small, metal poles horizontally set from one end to the other. It was circular, dark and private. Stiles' eyes glanced around, from the small control panel set dead-center above the closed window, to the steel grate below his feet. His boots were heavy and as he lifted them into the metal bindings he heard the audible click as they locked into place.

He hadn't looked at Derek yet. He couldn't look at Derek yet. 

The Conn-Pod was the cockpit, the helmet so-to-speak of Lionheart and Stiles clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing in and out as evenly as he could before he slid the helmet over his head and finally let his eyes peek over at Derek.

The alpha was looking back at him, forest eyes bright in the dim light, "Stiles," he breathed his name out, eyebrows lifting from behind the confines of his helmet, "are you ready?"

"Yeah," he lied through gritted teeth, flinching as a multitude of lights suddenly sparked to life within the cock-pit. Holograms were spread across the window, Lionheart's stats and her weapons diagram, all lit and bright. Engaged. 

A voice came through the speaker above both their heads, "Team Lionheart," the rasp of Raleigh's words made Stiles instantly relax, "We are initiating the drop in twenty seconds, confirm."

"Confirmed."

A moment later Stiles gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as the hydraulics released and Lionheart's large head descended down, rotating into place between the mechs shoulders. The ranger’s heart tried to run out of his chest as it beat frantically, anxiety twisting and turning around the adrenaline that had tremors running from his arms to his legs and everywhere in between. Stiles held his breath, kept his eyes shut and reminded himself again and again that if there was any time to be strong, it was then.  
He breathed out, the air in his lungs cut into pieces. Raleigh's voice sounded again, "Stiles, Derek, we're initiating the neural bridge in 5..." 

Stiles turned, desperate eyes lingering on Derek who nodded slowly, "You focus on me and only me," his voice was clear and firm, "do you hear me, Stiles?" 

"4..."

Stiles nodded shallowly as he suppressed the need to hide inside himself, mentally check out. He straightened his back, flinching through a hiss when the large metal cable clicked into place at the base of his neck. 

"3..."

"Stiles?" Derek's voice again and Stiles turned, eyes feigning strength as he slid his fingers into the metal slots and gripped, "I hear you, Derek, and I'm here. Only you, only focus on you, I-"

"2..."

Stiles was interrupted by the feminine robotic voice that caused panic to coarse through his veins. 

**Left Hemisphere Initiated**

He opened his eyes, faced the static that blurred his vision and put everything he had into trying to relax. The drift was raw, there was no texture, the balance the simulation had allowed was gone and Stiles felt weightless as he clawed against the steel and metal that was Lionheart's insides. He felt her strength, her density, the power that laid dormant, patiently waiting for him and Derek to take hold of her.

Stiles steadied his breathing and listened, craned himself towards the sounds of Derek's voice as he let the rush of memories pass through him. 

The familiar taste of ash in his mouth, the smell of pine trees and the trickle of rain down the bridge of his nose. Stiles had started to fall in love with Oregon through Derek, his vivid, beautiful memories that captured the misty nights he spent starring at the moon from the roof of his house, his first kiss was with a girl against an old tall tree on the outskirts of his high school, snowflakes gathering on her eyelashes in winter-

"Stiles," Derek was calm and reached out through the fog.

It was like electricity, like a thousand volts being shoved into his spine that radiated outwards, ending at the tips of his fingers. Stiles gasped, shuddered from the weight of the memory until he dug deeper, crawled into the space where it originated and found soft hands pressed against his face, a talented tongue stroking feverently against his own and then-

“ _Derek._ ”

Stiles' voice. His own voice. It jolted him. Stiles' heart thumped evenly and his cheeks heated when he realized that the memory he had chased was a memory they shared. It was backwards and completely foreign to slide himself into Derek's perspective, to feel what he had felt. To truly understand how disassembled the alpha had been that morning. The effect that Stiles had on him.

It was hard to focus, hard not to close his eyes and lean into the fleeting touch, relive it again and again. But Derek's voice broke through, "Stiles," he tested, prodding gently through the memory until he found it, found the heat, the shattered breathing, the pin prick of goose bumps chased by stumbling fingertips. It was just as hard for Derek to convince himself not to stay.

**Right Hemisphere Initiated**

The burn took Derek by surprise and he shut his eyes as Stiles' memories lapped against his heels. 

It was difficult to focus with Stiles pressing against a shared memory, something the two of them could feel. It wasn't just tangible for one of them, it was completely palpable for both and the familiarity had the potential to throw them off track.  
A warm laugh cooed against his ear and Derek's eyes fluttered as Stiles' mother tapped the tip of his nose, the smell of desert and blistering heat nearly suffocated him but the constriction felt safe, it felt like home. He dipped, turned, waded through the memories until he heard Stiles' breath hitch.

Soft lips, the hum of a surprised voice, a sharp exhale through his nose. Derek couldn't help but close his eyes and he held his breath, enamored by how nervous Stiles had been. How completely oblivious he was to his overabundance of appeal. 

"Derek," amber eyes flashed through his vision and the alpha gasped, tearing himself away from the inlet where they both had seemed to be caught. Stiles was the first one out and he took his time to steady his breathing, inhaling through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. It was only moments later that his co-pilot surfaced, blinking out over the digital HUD's before he turned his head and found Stiles looking back at him.

The beta cleared his throat, eyebrows flicking from behind his helmet, "You with me?"

Derek couldn't help but smile, "Yeah, I'm with you." 

"You two are at 100 percent, keep it that way and let's get the job done, we have Kaminari about a mile outside the breach," Raleigh's voice invaded the cock-pit and Stiles vibrated with energy as he let himself get re-accustomed not only to Derek, but to Lionheart. He had never felt anything like it before, the spark of energy, the rush of power. He felt invincible. 

Stiles drank Derek's confidence, parched for his co-pilot in more ways than one. It had been two weeks since they had drifted and being back inside the alphas head was a feat, but welcoming none the less. He could feel Derek's waves of adrenaline, his urgency to fight and his hunger for retribution.

When the two shot their hands forward, Lionheart moved, her shoulders rolling, arms lifting, fingers curling into tight fists. Stiles audibly gasped, his nerves like a storm raging inside him as Derek chuckled, "You alright over there?"

"Jesus... She's insane, this is incredible-"

"Yeah," Derek's voice was sultry, like fine wine being spilt across Stiles' thoughts, "I almost forgot how amazing this was." 

Lionheart's fists were raised, and Stiles could see through the paneled window into the control room where Allison stood, hiding a smile behind her folded hands, Erica and Boyd, arms crossed over their chests, nodding approvingly as Scott waved enthusiastically from next to the Marshalls. Raleigh grinned, an arm slung around Mako who watched them through a careful smile. Lydia was next to them, her lips pursed tight, clipboard gripped to her chest. She nodded once, turning as Isaac laid a hand over her shoulder and gripped. All their eyes were fixed on the Jaeger and their two friends who smiled back at them from behind Lionheart's shielded helmet. 

It made Stiles' heart sink as his view of them began to shrink when the large mech was wheeled to the front of the hangar.

The Jaeger was beautiful. Brick red armor was sharp and clean with a chest piece that spiked towards her shoulder blades which rounded down to strong forearms loaded with canons. Her helmet was layered with sheets of steel and her hands were like gauntlets, fierce and threatening. Each Jaeger had characteristics that set them apart from the others, a personality so to speak. Lionheart was medieval and exemplified a savage mastery of speed and force. She looked more menacing than the others, all jagged edges and bite. The mech was originally a Mark-4 design but after K-2 she had undergone modifications and was now classified as Mark-5 and ready for combat. 

Large steel cables clasped onto the Jaegers shoulders and within a few moments they were hoisted into the air and on their way towards the breach. 

Stiles could feel his heart beat in his throat, his fingertips gripped as tight as they could into the metal panels to his left and right. He knew that somewhere underneath the shared excitement and pooled confidence, Stiles' fear was left to fester. The beta pushed the thought away as he heard Derek sigh, "I'm right here," his words were crisp and Stiles blinked over towards him and nodded, "So, what exactly is the game plan here?"

The alpha scoffed, cracking his neck, "We punch it in the face until it dies."

Stiles' eyebrows flicked and he bit back a small smile, "Good plan, big guy."

\------------------------------

Wide hazel eyes stared at the floor as Lydia tried to steady her breathing. Her chest ached and her fingertips shook, curled protectively around the dog tags set between her collar bones. 

A warm hand brushed across the middle of her back and she inhaled sharply, eyes still fixed on the ground, "Lydia... Hey," Isaac's voice was barely above a whisper and he leaned down to press his hand over her clutched fingertips. "They're going to be fine," he tried to find her eyes but they were long gone, she simply gave a short nod and leaned slightly into the doctor’s touch, who rubbed her back gently and brushed his thumbs across her strained white knuckles. 

It didn't take long for Allison to find them towards the back of the control room and she sighed, glancing over her shoulder at Scott who looked back, eyes downcast, unaware of what he could do to help the situation.

"Hey," Allison's palm found Lydia's cheek and coaxed the red-head to look at her through glassy optics, "It's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna come back."

She saw the tremble in Lydia's bottom lip, the constriction in the woman’s throat. It was one thing for Lydia to be shaken up, for her to be emotional, but to see her so obviously torn, it made Allison feel guilt that wasn't even hers to feel.

"You think they'll be okay out there?" Erica looked to Herc Hansen who nodded immediately, smirking over to his prodigies, "I think they'll be more than okay." Boyd nodded to Herc, "I think they will be too, they just have to keep the drift intact."

Herc shrugged his shoulder towards Raleigh who was talking quietly with Mako and staring at the live feed from Lionheart's camera, "That man," the Marshall sighed softly, "He may be a reckless son of a bitch, but Becket knows talent when he sees it." Soft wrinkles crinkled at the corner of Herc's eyes and he bumped his shoulder into Boyd, "Just like I do." 

Erica's smile was light and she leaned into Herc who slung an arm around her shoulder and rubbed the pad of his thumb across her arm. 

"Hey," Raleigh's rough voice broke the quiet nervousness in the control room before he walked forward and flipped a switch next to the microphone, "Lionheart, destination reached. Confirm." 

\------------------------------

"Confirmed."

Stiles' voice was even, more even than he had expected it to be but still accompanied by a run away heart beat and a cluster of vibrating nerves deep in his chest. 

It was real. Everything. Everything that he had prepared for, everything he had trained for, what he was chosen for, it was all coming to a head. It was all for a moment, that moment, as the cables were drawn and they stabilized against the ocean floor. The moment when he head Derek's voice shake and felt his primal need to crush whatever mayhem had surfaced on their planet.

Their planet.

This was their planet.

Derek sucked air in through his nose, "Titan Omega, do you copy?"

The blocky Jaeger across from them dropped into the waves and crashed its fists together, the sound of two thick accents invading the Conn-Pod, "Do you purr, lion?" Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles snorted a laugh as he shook his head, "Come on, kitty kitty, let's kill this fucker." 

As much as Stiles hated their casual approach when it came to killing Kaiju, the twins’ cocky nature eased his erratic nerves. Amber eyes scraped across the ocean, watched the small waves rise and fall against the giant metal beasts. He could feel Derek's heartbeat, followed his impulse to look left, right and back again. Stiles had no problem letting his co-pilot take the lead, it only left him with slack to remind himself to breathe.

It was sudden, the thought. The memory of the day back at Brown. The girl who had screamed in the hall way. The heart wrenching, ear splitting, haunting scream that had plauged his dreams night after night. K-2. Her hunched back, hands digging into her own scalp like they were trying to pierce through bone. Wrecked. Not even close to salvageable. Broken.

"Stiles!" Derek was firm and he stabbed at the betas thoughts, "Don't- not now. Stay here. Stay with me!"

The beta snapped back, heaving shaky breaths before he reached out and gripped, gripped onto Derek's thoughts like they were the only thing he had to hold onto. 

Derek gripped right back and the subtle curl of his co-pilot's consciousness coaxed a gentle sigh to slip between Stiles' lips. Just enough to let his eyes close for a moment, enough to allow him the comfort of silence, the safety of thinking that maybe none of this was real. Maybe Stiles would wake up and he would be in his bed, in their apartment, and he would have another day to train. Another day to think, to hope, to pray that maybe life could be simple. Maybe they could think just of the present rather than the count down on the clock.

Maybe things would slow down enough for them to get a good look at each other for once. The world might come to a halt for just a few minutes, enough time that he could replay the way Derek's lips curve up when he smiled, the way his fingers tapped against the cover of his book when he flipped the page, small things that happened too fast. Everything happened too fast.

But nothing happened faster than Kaminari. 

A blur. Dark scales surrounded by the sound of the ocean breaking, a howl that made his rib cage crack and fold in on itself, it all happened so fast. 

Stiles didn't realized he had his right arm raised until he gasped and opened his eyes, blinking out the window of Lionheart's helmet into the gaze of something far beyond any simulation at Shatterdome. The Kaiju bit down on the mech's forearm, sharp feline teeth gnawing through high-pitched chirping growls. Its narrow head was long and lean, horns curling up from behind two rows of glowing blue eyes. 

The beta couldn't feel his fear behind the overwhelming urge to quite literally smash the beast currently latched onto their arm. His teeth gritted, he felt Derek's rage swell, and followed it into the swing of their free arm and bit back a curse as they struck the Kaiju below its throat. 

The creature made noises that Stiles could hardly categorize, growls, chirps, purrs, screams, vibrations that sounded like a mixed tape of overlapped cries from animals across the globe. Kaminari crumbled back under the waves before a long spiked tail whipped out and wrapped around Lionheart's helmet, giving a rough pull until the Jaeger was stumbling into the water.

"Fuck-" Derek's voice cut out through the Conn-Pod and Stiles winced when he felt a sudden shock of pain in his shoulder, "Release the coolants!"

Stiles reached to his left and flipped a switch, inhaling and exhaling in short exasperated breaths. 

"You're like a cat stuck in a bath tub."

"Shut the fuck up, Aiden!" Stiles growled through the press of his teeth as they reached forward and gripped the Kaiju's tail, "Plasma canon loaded, releasing in 3... 2..."

It was a rush of adrenaline, a flutter of nerves at the base of his spine when the canon fired. The sound it made was deafening and the sound Kaminari made when it connected with the bottom of the Kaiju's scaled back sent shivers climbing into Stiles' stomach. Derek's breathy laugh was the only thing that brought the beta back into the present, "Pulling out the big guns already, Stiles?"

"You're in my head, Hale, don't act like it was a surprise," Stiles scoffed as they took a step back, straightening Lionheart's metal spine against the waves that brushed across their knees, locked in place. 

Titan Omega was running forward, propelling themselves into the air with both fists raised before they slammed down onto Kaminari, crunching down on the beast’s torso. 

Amber eyes scrunched as Stiles winced, listening to the sound of cracking bones and the rising volume of the Kaiju's voice as it was crushed back under the waves. Stiles felt Derek more than he felt himself, felt his desperation, felt the thirst for revenge thick on his tongue and Derek felt Stiles more than he felt anything else, the boil of allure, the shameful curiosity and fearful thrill, a witches brew of emotions that threw them forward, "Mortar guns locked on," Derek's voice was strong and Stiles smirked softly, "Detination in 3...2..."

Titan Omega rose from the waves next to them as the two large field guns rose over Lionheart's shoulders, "...1."

They fired and Stiles held his breath as the missiles tore through the exposed chest of Kaminari when the Kaiju attempted to fling itself, all four clawed feet, in their direction. It was mesmerizing, the heat that instantly cauterized the flesh, the way its body twitched and convulsed in the air, eyes widening with surprise as it tumbled back below the waves. 

The alpha's heart beat fluttered and Stiles' chest burned as they stared at the water, watched for any sign of life, any movement, any flick of water that seemed out of place. But there was nothing. Nothing except Derek's breathing and Stiles' trembling hands. Nothing except the static of the over-head in the Conn-Pod and the clank of metal against metal as Titan Omega's fists clashed again and again.

It felt like years of silenced passed between them until Stiles let himself unfurl and a grin pass across his face, amber eyes lidding shut.

"Target eliminated. Welcome to the club, Lionheart," Raleigh's voice felt like a summer breeze and Stiles laughed softly when a flood of warmth passed across his thoughts. He turned his gaze to Derek who stared back, heart thudding against his chest as the alpha desperately tried to gather himself, tried to keep a hold of all the adrenaline, the excitement, the memories that threatened to spill into the drift.

They had made it. They had done it. They were alive. 

"Stiles," Derek's voice was as close to a whisper as it could have possibly been.

"Derek," Stiles breathed his name and it tasted like chocolate and coffee and sweet, bitter, renewal.

They looked at each other, braced inside Lionheart, and Stiles tried not to think about what was going to happen next. 

It was real now. They were pilots. A team. 

And this was only the first fight.

\------------------------------

It was overwhelming. 

Stiles' thoughts were still wrapped in the metal heart buried inside Lionheart's chest piece and as Erica ran to him, arms pulling him tight to her torso, he could hardly hug her back. His body was still shaking, mind still adjusting to the absence of his co-pilot, subconscious still pacing around like a rabid animal towards the back of his skull. 

The adrenaline hadn't varied. The face of Kamanari hadn't left. The pump of blood like hooves running up and down his ribs hadn't calmed.

Even so, he breathed her in. He breathed them all in. Allison's soft cherry perfume, Scott's exuberant voice, Lydia's gentle 'thank you'.

The beta barely heard any of it. Barely felt any of it. He was there, a smile, a breathy laugh, a glance to each of them from behind his glasses, but at the same time he was gone. 

"Oh my god, you're still shaking," Allison's eyes were glassy and she held onto Stiles' hands as they trembled, "You need to eat something and relax. Both of you," deep brown eyes shot to Derek who was just as equally overloaded as Stiles. 

"Y-yeah," Stiles tried to talk but his words were like acid in his mouth, burning holes in the fabrication of every sentence, eating away at any coherent thought he had. 

They stood on the floor of the hangar, Derek next to Boyd who nodded when the alpha told him it went more smoothly than he had anticipated. Stiles knew that it had been easy, knew it had been sheer luck that they weren't dead. He knew that the next time they were in Lionheart they might not come back. He would remind himself of that every day, just like he reminded himself every night that he may not wake up in the morning.

It was a constant flow of push and pull, reality and fantasy.

Human and alien.

Jaeger and Kaiju.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip, ran his fingers up through the messy locks of his hair and stared at Derek who blinked back over Lydia's shoulder as the woman smiled up at him. She looked relieved. They all looked relieved.

"Oh-ho! Look at the little lions!" Ethan slung his arm around Stiles' shoulder and pulled him roughly, "Next time we fight we'll take you to pride rock-"

"Look, Simba!" Aiden gestured to the group with an exaggerated wave of his arm, "Look at your pride!"

The Titan twins laughed like they were in middle school and Stiles couldn't help but laugh back, shoving the German pilot playfully before Derek nudged Aiden and reached out to grip his shoulder, "You guys were good out there." The alpha was sincere and he arched a brow when the two huffed and wore matching grins, "You too, kitties. We're honored to fight with you, any day, any night." 

As cocky and immature as they were, Stiles appreciated the praise and nodded, still unable to properly form words. 

Isaac was in front of him before he could protest, a warm hand splayed over his chest. The doctors brows furrowed when he felt the jackhammer of Stiles' heartbeat, "I can get you something," his words were soft, "something to calm-"

"I'll be okay," Stiles cut him off without warning before he took a step back and fidgeted with the pocket of his leather jacket, "I'm just... I'm gonna go chill- or eat, or... I don't know." The ranger tried to breathe again but the oxygen got lost somewhere and his lungs tightened, throat closed. It was too much, much too much, and Stiles could hardly comprehend the rushed words surrounding him, the congratulations, the happiness, the excitement.

He looked to Derek again and his co-pilot nodded, gesturing with a raise of his chin and the flare of his nostrils. Breathe in. Stiles followed. Derek's lips parted and Stiles' did as well. Exhale.

Derek didn't look away when he opened his mouth to speak and Stiles hardly caught his voice when he said, "We need to eat and pack for Vegas-"

"So do we," Boyd looked to Erica who nodded, Ethan and Aiden also nodded.

"Okay, so I'll call you guys," Derek's eyes flicked to Allison, Scott, Lydia and Isaac who nodded, offering smiles to Stiles who was already sneaking away towards the back door of the hangar. 

He didn't say goodbye, he simply waved, shooting something of a smile over his shoulder to his friends who were more than understanding of the situation. They watched him go, watched him pace away, turning quickly into the darkness of the early morning.  
Long nimble fingers shook violently as he stood in front of their door and tried to get fit the key into the lock. "Fuck..." Stiles voice was a soft whimper and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, his thoughts were rolling like thunder across his mind, memories striking down against his nerves like lightening. It was too much. The drift. The fight. The adrenaline. The power-

"Hey," Derek's voice was sharp, but his hand was gentle as he batted Stiles away when he leaned down to unlock the door, "It's okay, I-"

"No, no- this is-" Stiles practically ran into the apartment, turning to face Derek as he paced next to the breakfast bar, "I don't know how to-" The ranger inhaled a cracked breath before he reached up to take his glasses off, setting them down on the counter top and fidgeting to chase them when they almost fell off the edge.

"It's still," Stiles gestured to down to himself, "I can still feel it, all of it." 

Derek nodded and Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief when he realized that his co-pilot knew exactly what he was talking about. 

The apartment was silent and dark as the air conditioner hummed against the absence of sound. Stiles could hear Derek breathing, could feel his hand brush across top of his shoulder, "Stiles, it's okay." The beta even heard the edge in his voice, the control, and he turned on his heels to face him, amber eyes glaring at Derek like he was the only thing left.

Derek was the only thing left.

His words were exhausted before they even left his mouth, "No, Derek, it's not okay," his voice weathered and Stiles looked away, "You can't- you can't just-" he bit down on his lip, eyes flicking around the alphas face before he finally gave in and gripped at the man’s jacket.

Stiles cursed before he pulled Derek forward and collided with his lips. He didn't expect the ranger to respond, but he did, with demanding, desperate force. Teeth clanked as lips slid together in a messy attempt to devour each other, find the cracks, the breaks, the fractures and melt them all back into functional shape. Anything. Stiles needed anything. And Derek was more than that. He was the only thing. 

A heavy breath was pushed from between Derek's lips when his back hit the wall and he succumbed as Stiles pawed carelessly at his jacket, letting it fall in a heap by their feet. He wanted to talk, to say something, to explain why this wasn't even remotely close to a good idea, but he wound his fingers into Stiles' hair instead and pulled, forcing the beta to gasp when he sank his teeth into the base of his neck.

It was hard to think, to remember anything except for the wet warmth of Derek's tongue on his throat, or the way the veteran already had his free hand pushed under his shirt, gripping onto his torso like Stiles would crumble if he let him go.

"Der," Stiles swallowed a breath, flinching when his co-pilot pulled at him roughly, angling his head where he wanted it, "D-der, hold, hold on- we," his words were swallowed by Derek's mouth and his voice rumbled dangerously between their lips, sending chills down Stiles' spine that refused to quit. It was hard and bruising and rushed and exactly what Stiles needed but didn't want.

His mind may have been on overdrive, his heart beat erratic, but he yearned to memorize Derek. He wanted to tear him apart inch by inch and sew him back together. He wanted to take his time and unravel him, pick and pull and press and feel until he was sure he knew, until he was positive he had seen. 

Stiles didn't want another war with the clock.

The only thing he could think to do was move his hands, press them to Derek's jaw and rub his thumbs across the rough stubble of the man’s cheeks. He wanted the heat. Craved it. Was a complete wreck for it, but he knew, Stiles knew, that he wanted to know Derek more. Wanted to capture him like a Polaroid and keep him stashed away in his memories.

Because only god knew when they would do this again.

And Stiles didn't believe in god.

"What?" Derek snapped his teeth together before he untangled his fingers from Stiles hair and dropped his hands to his side. The alpha's face was blotched red, pupils dark and wide as he stared at Stiles, worry, wonder, want, all of it, even a bit of denial leaking through into the air between them.

Stiles did nothing but watch him. He watched him try to catch his breath and felt along his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, flicked his eyes to the strong chest that heaved in breath after breath. A month ago Stiles would have flinched at Derek's tone, at his anger, but now there was a part of him that understood and knew that underneath the alpha's heaving chest was a heart that had been beating just as fast as his own, and behind that pair of jungle eyes was a five-car-pile-up of thoughts that he couldn't digest. Stiles knew that Derek was just as thirsty for an escape as he was. 

Amber eyes collected the scars on Derek's face, studied the throb in his throat when the man swallowed and inhaled the warm puffs of air he was breathing against Stiles' mouth.

It was hard to categorize his feelings, to establish any kind of solid emotion with how many of them were rising and falling, licking across the shores of his mind like the tide. It was back and forth, the want to dig his fingertips into Derek, pull him down against the tile floor and the desire to map him out slowly, thoughtfully. 

Derek wasn't shy about his impatience and Stiles arched a brow, "We have time," the beta's words were like cashmere but his co-pilot was anything but appreciative. It was the first time Stiles noticed his shaking hands or the tremors in Derek's knees and as much as he wanted to be able to say he was completely in control of his own energy, he wasn't. Not in the slightest.

They stayed like that, eyes glued to each other, Stiles hands gripping Derek's face until calloused fingertips finally inched forward to touch the beta again. Derek was trembling as his hands rested under the rangers shirt, pressing up along the soft skin. It was slow and it caused the ache in Stiles' stomach to swell until he finally gave in and leaned forward, rolling his hips into Derek who gripped harder, eyes squeezing shut, "This isn't a good idea." 

Stiles blinked, "...what?"

"This," Derek's hands tightened, mouth brushing carefully against Stiles' as he spoke, "this could potentially get us killed." 

Stiles' heart was beating like a drum in his chest and he swallowed, unable to suppress the breath that was pushed out of him when Derek let his hands fall, hooking his thumbs under the waist band of the beta's jeans, "Does that bother you?"

He hadn't expected to sound as confident as he did, and Derek's brow rose as a smile teased at the edge of his lips, "Marginally."

Stiles' laugh was stifled when Derek pressed his mouth against the beta's, all fight and no rhythm. They were clumsy, stumbling down the hall towards Stiles' room, pausing every couple feet to push one another against the wall. Stiles' jacket and shirt were discarded somewhere along the way, and Derek's shirt got caught on his shoulder, earning a growl from the alpha and a small smirk from the beta who finally threw it to the ground, "Aren't you highly trained in patience, can't you-" Stiles lost his words when Derek bumped the door of his room open with his hip and tugged him into the darkness.

It was as if they were still lost somewhere inside the steel panels between Lionheart's shoulder blades, twisting and winding through the gears and circuitry. Derek's back fell into the red comforter and Stiles hands landed on either side of his arms as he slid his abdomen against the alpha, the quiet rumble of a growl leaking from the young pilot as he captured Derek in an open-mouthed, needy kiss. It was apparent that Derek didn't like to admit that he was more than pleased with Stiles exerting his strength, and he blushed furiously, skating a hand down Stiles back when he leaned down and buried himself behind Derek's ear.

Derek bit down on his lip when his co-pilot hummed, lips trailing across the curve of his throat to the dip below his shoulder. Stiles' mouth was warm and felt like feathers against the tough, scarred skin that Derek was quite ashamed of. He hated every single reminder, every niche, every circular burned scar that littered his chest. He didn't want to go there; he didn't want to think of Jackson or of the Kaiju blue that hit his flesh when the canon misfired, he needed to stay here, in this moment. He needed to stay.  


Stiles' teeth grazed across his side, teeth sinking painfully into Derek's ribs until he heard a strangled whine and felt the alpha arch off the bed. Honey eyes flicked up and Stiles' brow rose playfully. Derek glared at the ceiling, cheeks heated before he grumbled 'shut up' and pursed his lips into a thin line. It wasn't hard to embarrass, Derek, Stiles had figured that out early on in their relationship, but he had never expected him to be bashful. Stiles gripped his waist and bit down again, harder, dragging blunt teeth across his rib cage until he could hear Derek try to hold his breath, "Fu-" the curse was pierced with a wrecked moan that Stiles could hardly handle. 

To have the opportunity to watch Derek unfurl beneath his hands obliterated his self-control.

"You're always quiet, stop being quiet," Stiles hissed breathlessly, tugging at his jeans until he could get his mouth on the sharp bone of Derek's hip. The ranger gasped when Stiles' teeth pulled across his abdomen and green eyes squeezed shut.  


Before he could even get his hands on Derek's belt, Stiles was hauled up by his arms and shoved down against the mattress, "Don't tell me what to do," Derek's voice was sharp against the beta's parted lips. He nudged at the soft skin on his co-pilots throat, rubbed his stubbled cheek against the flesh until the ranger beneath him squirmed. Amber eyes closed and Stiles said nothing, simply enjoyed the way Derek made his blood boil whenever he laid his hands on him, reveled in Hale's lingering breaths against the base of his throat and tried not to buck his hips when the alpha pressed his knee between his thighs.

Derek wasn't careful or precise. He was like an out of control forest fire, burning and hungry to mangle anything in his path. Stiles couldn't breathe when Derek slid a hand underneath him and pressed on to his lower back, beckoning his hips to rise into an eager pair of lips that mouthed at the button of Stiles' jeans. His temperature had spiked, light caramel eyes lidded until Derek finally popped his pants open, enticing a soft laugh from Stiles, "Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?"

"High school summer camp," Derek's voice was mumbled against the all-too soft skin of a lean stomach before he glanced up through a crooked smile, enamored by the sight of Stiles with his arm thrown over his face and his eyes shut. The bed dipped next to Stiles' shoulders and he kept his eyes closed when he felt Derek's breath fall shallowly across his mouth. Rough fingers walked their way up the inside of Stiles arm, tickling across the faint groups of freckles that lived there until he found his palm and laced his hand through the gaps between his co-pilots bony fingers. 

The room was dark but when Stiles opened his eyes he found the outline of Derek's nose, the swell of his bottom lip and the flutter of his eyelashes. It was hard to bite his tongue, hold back the praise that threatened to fall from his throat. The beta wanted more than anything to tell Derek how beautiful he was, to describe in detail exactly what he looked like, press pause, rewind, find elaborate pieces of poetry to throw at him and to make Derek understand that even in the dark he was blinding.

Stiles' was stills shaking, heart occupied in keeping up with his speedy thoughts. He swallowed down the anxiety, "Viens ici," his voice was a whisper and he gripped onto Derek's hand as the alpha laid his weight down, hips grinding into Stiles hard enough to pull a broken gasp from the nervous wreck underneath him. "I said come here," Stiles tried to be gentle but when Derek rocked his hips forward the only thing he could focus on was how completely clothed they still were and how ridiculous that was.

The crash of lips, slick slide of Stiles' tongue, Derek's unruly movements, the burn below his rib cage, quiet whimpers that caused them both to flush.

Stiles growled, "Okay," he spoke between Derek's lips, pressing and pulling until he untangled his fingers that were pinned above his head and reached down to fumble with the alpha's belt. Derek bit down on his throat, stilling his hands for a moment until his mouth busied itself with Stiles' lips again, allowing him to stumble along at his waist. 

It didn't take long for Stiles to get frustrated, for him to blush and curse and twist underneath Derek until he finally huffed, pulling away, "Are you wearing a fucking chastity belt, like how do you get this thing off, I can't-" Stiles hissed, continuing to pull at the leather strung through the belt loops on Derek's jeans.

Derek barked a laugh against his lips which made Stiles turn his face away and spit curses at him, thoroughly horrified at his lack of sexual allure. The alpha sat up with his legs on either side of the ranger beneath him. He didn't want to stare as his co-pilot easily pulled his belt off and tossed it away, but he did, amber eyes drank in the pointed curve of Derek's hip to the pale shadows lingering over the curved muscle in his abdomen. He watched his shoulders rise and fall with each inhale and exhale, studied the twitch in his lip when he smiled. Derek couldn't even comprehend the power in that smile and Stiles believed with all his might that the soft curve of those lips could conquer just about anything. 

When Derek fell back against Stiles he pressed down, bare skin melding together as their lips met in another desperate kiss. Stiles tilted his head, hand moving to tangle in Derek's hair as he twisted, mismatched socks pushing at the man’s stubborn jeans. His heart jumped painfully at the sudden intrusion of the alphas palm, sliding down his stomach, leaving a scorching path in its wake until the tips of his finger slipped just beneath the soft grey denim of Stiles' jeans. The beta lifted, a small sound breaking over the pillow of his tongue, encouraging, pleading for him to continue.

Swollen lips spread against the ranger’s cheek and Derek opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the rap of knuckles against the front door.

Derek's eyes flew open. Stiles' stared up at him, wide and unblinking.

They froze, held their breath until the knocking sounded again. Derek's eyes were apologetic and Stiles shook his head, "Derek, don't you dare- do not," his words were rushed and he snapped his teeth when the alpha sat up, "If you get out of this bed I'll fill your shower with Kaiju ticks, I'm not even kidding right now, I-"

Green eyes rolled and Derek sighed as he stepped onto the carpet, listening to Stiles' curse at him in a foreign language as he walked towards the living room. 

Stiles didn't move. He didn't breathe until his body reminded him to and he bit down on his bottom lip as hard as he could. Echoes of Derek still bounced across his body, melted into his flesh, left him blotched and flushed on top of the comforter in his room. 

Amber eyes glanced over at the clock. 

7:02 a.m

Fingers ran up through his hair and he dug blunt nails into the base of his skull. What the fuck. His thoughts were chewed up again, jumbled and cycloned between Derek's mouth and the fact that the Kaiju looked surprised when it died, from hot breath against his chest to shaking devastation in the drift. He had escaped it for a moment but as soon as he had a chance to think again, it all came rushing back. 

Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. 

The beta sat up and looked down at himself, arching a brow when he saw the soft blossom of bruising on his waist. Nerves fluttered over his bones, stole the breath from him when he blinked again and again. Derek did that. Derek Hale. His co-pilot.

"Fuck..." he buried his head in his hands and wondered briefly whether or not this was something he would regret.

Derek unlocked the door and cracked it open, peeking his head around the edge only for it to be shoved open by Erica who heaved an irritated sigh, "Fucking finally, Jesus, I've been standing... out..." her eyes trailed from Derek's bare chest to the jacket next to the wall and then to the shoes kicked lazily in the hallway across from an inside out shirt, "...here..."

"No," Derek's voice was sharp and he pressed a hand to her lower back, pushing her towards the door. His cheeks were tinted and the blonde twisted against his arm, a grin spread across the pilots face, "You..." she poked a finger on the ring of indentations on his side where Stiles had bit, "...are in so much trouble." 

"Leave," the alpha hissed, pushing her again but Erica was quick and squirmed away, her heeled boots clicking against the tile as she bounded down the hall. 

Her laugh was loud in the quiet house and she kicked Derek's shirt out of the way before crashing through the doors. Stiles' head snapped forward and he inhaled sharply, lips falling open when he saw the beaming white of Erica's grin. He didn't know what to do, whether he should laugh or yell or deny everything up and down until he was red in the face, but all he could do was stare like a deer into headlights.

Erica hummed, "I knew it!" She pointed her index finger at Stiles who rolled his eyes and tried to stop himself from smiling.

Broad shoulders loomed behind her and Derek grabbed her wrist, swiftly pulling her back towards the kitchen.

"Oh, would you calm down! I didn't come here to," she waved her hand at the mess in the hallway, "interrupt! I came here to one, check on him," she pointed again at Stiles who had his eyes closed, desperately wishing he could disappear, "and two, to tell you guys that we have a briefing with the Marshalls at one and we have a plane to catch at five, so pack and get ready."

"Erica," Derek's voice was soft before he hauled her towards the door. He blinked at her and she blinked back through an arched brow. He tilted his chin down and breathed out a shaky sigh.

"Stop, Hale," her voice was a whisper and she pressed her hand to his shoulder, "We'll talk later." Her eyes darted over his shoulder as Stiles slowly made an appearance, lips softly parted as he looked to Erica and tried to smile. She smirked, "Nice," she tapped the side of her neck and gestured to Stiles who slapped his palm over his throat, covering the purple circle below his ear, lips drawn into a thin line.

Derek's eyes rolled towards the ceiling and he pushed her towards the door, "See you at one," his voice was a growl and all he got in return was her laughter before he slammed the door and locked it once again. 

Stiles didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say or if he should say anything at all. The only thing he knew was that Derek was watching him carefully, eyes darting around his face until he was walking forward and Stiles couldn't help but look at the ground. He hated the unknown, the chance that Derek might tell him that it was a mistake, heat of the moment, a way to cope or even worse that he would be graced with silence. 

But Derek did neither, he simply picked up Stiles glasses from where they sat on the breakfast bar and placed them gingerly on the bridge of his nose.

"We should get ready," his words were soft, like they always were, and Stiles couldn't help but bite down on his lip.

"No we shouldn't," it was one of the first times he hadn't meant to be brave and amber eyes lifted to stare at Derek from under thick dark lashes.

Derek snorted a small laugh; fingertips trailing along Stiles' lower back as he walked passed him, "Go take a shower, Stiles." 

Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek, mulled over the idea of following the alpha into his room and insisting that they shower together, but his mind blurred, eyes turned to look down the hall as Derek closed the door behind him, and quietly reminded himself that this wasn't a good idea. 

\------------------------------

:3  
:D  
yes.  
I was not expecting to write about them making out so much but I'm okay with it and I hope you all are too. Stay tuned and as always, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.

come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter Nine

Erica rested her back against the door with Boyd and the twins sat in two chairs settled in front of a large wooden desk. Stiles had never been inside the Marshall's office. It was spacious with a window that over looked the hangar, pictures decorated the walls, Pentecost, Raleigh, other pilots that Stiles had only seen in interviews on TV and one that his co-pilot hadn't taken his eyes off of since they walked in at a quarter passed twelve. The frame was a little crooked and held a photo of Jackson, wide grin and eyes full of life, with his arm slung around Derek's shoulder. They looked so young, thriving and wild and powerful. His stomach twisted and he leaned, gently sliding against Derek who glanced down and leaned back, brushing his forearm against Stiles'. It was one of those moments that reminded him of his partner’s past, of the life when Lionheart was piloted by a couple of reckless kids instead of a beta who hardly knew what to do to himself and the echo of someone Derek used to be.

Stiles hadn't slept. His eyes were blood shot, dark circles riddled the delicate skin beneath them and he sighed softly, a small tremor running through his fingertips. It was an aftershock. A withdrawal from the confines of a steel heart and the mind of a very complicated and frustrating man. He hadn’t expected this, he hadn't expected any of it. Not the rush of uncompromised force or the overwhelming swell of pride, not the burn of adrenaline or the feeling of being completely unstoppable. Definitely not the calloused hands that had bruised his hips or the slightly chapped lips that had left a blotched mark on his throat.

He swallowed dryly and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose when Chris Argent cleared his throat.

"Rangers," he paused and looked to each of them, "First off, congratulations to Titan Omega and Lionheart. Second, this exposure in Vegas is important for a few different reasons, a couple of them being that the world's starting to cling to the idea that the Jaeger program is becoming a hazard. We need to remind the people watching us every hour of every day that you are their protectors."

Chills ran down the expanse of Stiles' arms and he saw Erica's lips spread into a grin.

Herc Hansen ran his fingers across the scruff on his chin and nodded, "You guys are their only fucking hope, make them believe it."

Stiles looked up to Derek who was staring blankly at the wall where the picture sat framed and crooked. He wondered briefly if his co-pilot had heard a damn thing that was said in that meeting.

\------------------------------

Turbulence rocked the plane and Stiles hissed when his head hit the windshield, "Fucking... motherfucker," his voice was raspy and he blinked lazily, wincing when he moved his arm. He didn't know what exactly he had done to his neck or why his elbow was jammed, but it felt like he had slept in the back of his jeep for a week. A heavy weight pressed into his side and Stiles pawed lazily at his eyes with the back of his hands until he felt Derek nuzzle into his shoulder.

The alpha was asleep with his arm and face mashed into Stiles, squishing him uncomfortably into the window. Stiles wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes, shrugging until Derek grumbled and lifted only slightly higher. Long fingers propped him up and maneuvered his cheek onto the soft dip in his shoulder. Derek hummed and Stiles sighed, leaned down to rest on to the top of his head and closed his eyes.

He was too exhausted to wonder what was going to happen next, to worry about what he was supposed to say or do when they got to Vegas. He was too drained to try and justify what happened after the fight, too tired to be nervous about running his fingers across the top of Derek's hand. The alpha stirred and shifted slightly, breath ghosting across the nape of Stiles' neck.

He swallowed and inhaled through his nose. Exhaled through his mouth. 

It was strange to feel as comfortable as he did, to be more at ease with Derek asleep on his shoulder than he would be curled in a bed by himself, alone with his thoughts. 

"Hey," Erica's voice was hardly a whisper and she caught herself on the seat when the plane shook again. She smiled sheepishly and gestured to the two of them with her index finger, "you guys are hot together."

Stiles felt his cheeks heat and he gritted his teeth, "Can we talk about this when we land?" His eyes flicked down to Derek who purred in his slumber, hand twitching beneath Stiles' fingers. The beta pulled his hand back instinctively and he heard the blonde snicker from the walkway until a flight attendant ushered her politely back to her seat. 

His heart was pounding in his chest and he took in a few shallow breaths, closing his eyes and rationalizing the situation. It was Derek. It was his co-pilot. Stiles didn't have to over-analyze something that... Fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut before they eased open and he looked down passed the messy dark hair to the soft pout of his lips as the alpha exhaled easily onto his shoulder. He didn't want to be wrong. He didn't want to start feeling anything. He was here for a reason, a purpose, a dangerous, reckless, valiant reason that he couldn't compromise. Wouldn't compromise.

Derek leaned his head up and sighed softly, "Get some sleep."

The words were quiet and raspy and Stiles didn't say anything, he simply laid his cheek down on top of Hale's head and closed his eyes, tried not to think of anything, tried to distance himself from anything that had to do with Kaiju's or Jaeger's or the PPDC or Derek's mouth or- fuck. He bit down on his bottom lip.

It was a long flight and Stiles didn't sleep.

\------------------------------

Lydia rolled a flower between her fingertips, eyes sealed shut as she sat in the misty garden on the top floor of Shatterdome. It was quiet, just how she liked it, and she listened to herself breathe. Reminded herself that no matter how bad things could get they had already been unbearable. 

She inhaled a shaky breath and closed her eyes when the glass door opened and Isaac walked forward. He took slow steps, like he was inching himself across a sheet of ice and when he finally got close enough to reach out and touch her, he did. Light digits danced across the top of her head and the woman jerked when he tried to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Lydia..." the doctor cleared his throat and let his hand fall back to settle at his side, "It's okay- I'm sorry if I-"

"Don't," she didn't mean to sound as cold as she had, to bite the words out and she shook her head, hazel eyes lifting to meet the gaze pointed down at her. He was still wearing his lab coat, messy curls pushed back away from his face and something about the way he looked at her made Lydia want to break apart at his feet.

"I can't, Isaac, you know-" she breathed, "you know I can't."

The red-head knew how defeated she sounded but that defeat was the only strength she had left.

He rested his hand safely on her shoulder, "Let me make you dinner sometime."

The woman nodded and looked back to the plant still rolling absently between her fingertips.

"Sometime."

It wasn't a promise, and Isaac knew that. It was open ended. A 'maybe', an 'if we survive this', an 'I'm doing my best here' kind of answer that left him without any certainty. But that was the life they had lived since K-Day, an uncertain one.  
Dr. Lahey gave her shoulder a squeeze and walked back out the door, leaving Lydia to drop the flower and twist the ring back and forth on her left hand.

\------------------------------

"Okay, so," Peter had his phone open and flicked across the screen multiple times as they walked out of the airport. It was late in the afternoon and Stiles yawned, pawed at his eyes with the back of his hand and wished he had forced himself to sleep or drank himself to sleep or done anything to get some sleep while they were flying. "You two," he pointed at Boyd and Erica, "are staying at the Aria and you four are," he pointed at the twins and then to Stiles and Derek, "at the Cosmopolitan."  
Derek rolled his eyes when Ethan and Aiden high-fived and started rambling in German. 

Erica and Boyd got into a separate car after Peter adamantly requested that they all be on time for the interview and by on time he meant at least an hour early. Stiles was thankful that he would at least get some sort of rest but even so, his stomach clenched and fluttered. Derek hadn't said anything substantial to him since they got off the plane, not that he said much anyways, but it was different after... Stiles dug his nails into his palm and bit down on the inside of his cheek. Nothing was different. Nothing could be different.

The Cosmopolitan was modern and beautiful. Its smooth polished tile floor reflected the mirrored ceiling and pillars lined top to bottom in front of the check-in desks with screens that played graphic art in the lobby. Images of hands and bodies blurred, played on repeat, mingling with flashes of insects or rain drops. It wasn't like any place that Stiles had been before and he stood, glancing from the pillars to the casino crowded with people past a small intimate bar. Black cushioned couches sat pressed together, littered between crowds of people. Sleek black table tops held art, skulls painted silver, jagged glass vases that looked sharp to the touch. Curious eyes were ripped away when Peter tugged on his arm, just in time for a flash of light to obscure his vision, "Room 5051. Go, I'll take care of this."

Derek pressed a hand firmly to Stiles' back and guided him towards the elevators, "Smile over your shoulder," it was a command and the beta scoffed and wrinkled his nose, opening his mouth to say something until he heard the commotion gathering behind them. "Lionheart!" An unfamiliar voice. Stiles turned, his glasses dropping to the tip of his nose and smiled, shy and delicate. Derek did the same, lips spread upwards as another flash caused Stiles to blink and turn away.

Peter had his arms out in the lobby and was speaking loudly, ushering the crowd of reporters towards him and away from the rangers that stepped hurriedly into the elevator. Stiles felt his heart slam against his rib cage as the doors closed. It took a moment for it to register, for Stiles to realize, as a sliver of the lobby was obscured by mirrored elevator doors, where he was. "D-derek, Derek I-" his chest was heaving, knees buckling and he tried his best to breathe, tried not to close his eyes. It was too small. There wasn't enough room. There was nowhere to run. It hadn't occurred to him that they were going to have to get on an elevator but there was no other option. 

His eyes stung when they squeezed shut and he whined, weight falling against the wall until strong hands reached out to steady him, "Stiles," Derek's voice was firm, "Open your eyes. Look at me." 

If he opened them Derek would see that he was about to cry and that was the last thing he needed, for his pride to be stabbed, for him to have to be coddled because of a fucking elevator. "I don't like this," Stiles shook his head and tried to swallow but the air got caught in his throat. Warm hands rested on either side of his face and he felt Derek's breath flow over his nose, across his mouth. 

"Thirty seconds," Derek stroked his thumbs across his cheeks and Stiles nodded, "Just breathe."

He inhaled through his nose. Exhaled through his mouth. The breath was shaky and he clenched his jaw, curling and uncurling his fists at his sides, "I can't, Der, get me out, please-"

The bell rang, the doors opened and Stiles almost ran into a couple girls wearing short party dresses who stumbled in their heels. Derek mumbled an apology and Stiles heard them gasp in astonishment, repeat his name and yell 'wait' before the doors slid closed in front of them. Stiles was trying to catch his breath, wrap his mind back around the present and pull himself out of the anxiety that was crashing into him like waves, again and again. 

"Are you okay?" Derek blinked through a frown, sincere concern shadowing his face when Stiles finally looked up and nodded. A deep blush crawled over the bridge of his nose and highlighted his cheeks, "I-I'm sorry, I know I'm a-" he tried to feign a laugh, "kind of a little bitch when it comes to-"

"Shut up," Derek jerked his head back and nudged his arm with his shoulder when he walked by, "Everyone's scared of something. That doesn't make you a 'little bitch.'" 

Stiles snorted when Derek raised his hands into air quotes and followed him down the hall, still a little unsteady and still extremely embarrassed. "I like how picky and choosy you are about when you decide not to be an asshole," Stiles hissed, obviously still shaken, and watched Derek turn the corner down another hall and stop at their room, "You're right. I'm not scared of anything," the alpha threw a sarcastic smile to him before he pushed the door open and walked inside. 

He followed, cracking his knuckles to try and stop them from shaking. That was a lie and Derek knew that Stiles knew that. The alpha was scared of fire. Ever since the accident at their home when he was young, the ranger hadn't been able to get very close to an open flame. He could stand fireplaces but bonfires made him uneasy and getting close to one was completely out of the question. Derek could relate to him, he had felt the same once, like he had no escape, trapped, confined like a caged animal.

The room was spacious, it had a full bathroom with two sinks to the left, accompanied by a stone walk in shower and deep set Japanese style bath inside. The patio was small but Stiles could hear the crashing of the Bellagio fountains dancing below. He had never stayed somewhere so nice, not once in his life, "Holy shit..." the words were mumbled as he glanced around and felt Derek brush past him to answer the door when their belongings were dropped off. 

Stiles flopped down on one of the beds, sighing when the cold comforter pushed up around him. He curled himself around one of the pillows and pulled his glasses off to set them on the night stand. "Wake me up when I need to get ready," he closed his eyes, thought of nothing, not of Shatterdome, or Danny, or his father or his co-pilot and Derek didn't even have a chance to respond; he was asleep within a few breaths.

\------------------------------

"Stiles," Derek's voice was pointed and he kicked the bed when he walked by, a towel wrapped around his waist, "Stiles, get up." He walked over and pressed his foot against Stiles' leg, shaking him until he heard the ranger hiss and yawn, "I'm up, Jesus, what time-" 

Stiles froze when he opened his eyes. He blinked a few times before he reached over and propped his glasses back on. "... is it?" He swallowed and bit down on his lip when green eyes flashed over a bare shoulder, "It's six, we have to be there in an hour and a half so get up." Beads of water slid down his spine, across the skin stretched tight over his hips and Stiles had to remind himself that he was staring before he ripped his eyes away and tried to force himself to nod.

Stiles swung his legs over the side of the bed and yawned, stretching idly as he peeked up at Derek before something caught his eye and he stood. His eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to the alpha, a smirk playing across his face, "Hey, what- oh my god, did you shave?" 

The ranger's usually rough cheeks were clear and soft and his jaw seemed more angled and prominent. He looked younger. Much younger. 

"Yes, Stiles, I shaved," he huffed as long fingers moved to wrap around his jaw, pulling his face when Stiles continued to laugh, "You look like a baby," Stiles stuck his tongue between his teeth and watched Derek roll his eyes and bat his hand away.  
"I don't look like a baby," the alpha snapped, rifling through the closet until he was pulling at the zipper of a black bag.

Stiles wanted to reach out and run his hand across the smooth skin, let the pad of his thumb brush over his bottom lip, but he didn't. He kept his hands at his side and shook his head, "You look like a baby," he repeated before turning to walk towards the bathroom. He heard Derek grumble something inaudible as he closed the door and tried not to think about anything except the interview. 

He went over it in his head, tried to master his facial expressions, think of ways to explain how it all felt. What were some words, phrases he could use, things he could say? Describing anything that had to do with fighting a Kaiju was... completely out of the question. He could lie, act confident, tell the world that it was easy, that he was highly trained and feared nothing, but he knew in the back of his mind that if he tried to say something like that it would probably throw him into a panic attack on live television.

The water was hot and nearly scolded his back as he hung his head and tapped his finger below the shower head. Being a ranger wasn't something he was comfortable talking about. He didn't want someone prying into what he felt in the drift, what it was like to look into the eyes of a creature and destroy it, how death defying it felt to be inside of Lionheart. Those were intimate details of his life that he only shared with one other person.

His chest clenched and he chewed on his bottom lip, moving to turn off the water and step out, wrapping a towel around his waist and grabbing another to ruffle through his hair. 

He brushed his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror, poked at a freckle next to his nose and sighed, "You'll be fine," he mumbled, staring at his reflection before he looked down to his hands, "You're always fine."

Stiles poked his head out of the bathroom and around the corner, glancing through the room for Derek. The air conditioner hummed and the bed was still turned down from where he had been sleeping, a water bottle sat open on the counter top but there was no sign of his co-pilot. 

It gave him time to get dressed on his own, to think, to go over questions in his head. He had never been in a situation like he was about to be in, had never been obligated to make a good impression. 

He was fixing the knob of his tie when he heard the door open and Derek walked through. The alpha paused, eyes trailing over his co-pilot. Stiles looked away, tried to ignore the fact that Derek wasn't being shy about the way he was looking at him. He cleared his throat and honey eyes lifted to look across to him, "You feeling any better?" Derek's voice was low as he reached across the grab a water bottle off the counter. 

Stiles nodded, "Yeah, I needed the sleep."

"We can skip the club tonight if you-"

"No, no," Stiles narrowed his eyes and shook his head, pulling the black jacket on and buttoning it, "We'll go. It's kind of important that we're there isn't it?"

Derek shrugged, "There won't be any press up there, just a bunch of kids and people who paid extra to get in. It's mostly publicity for the club, bragging rights."

Stiles nodded and arched a brow, "You gonna hit the dance floor, big guy?"

Green eyes rolled and he tried not to laugh when he took a drink off the water bottle.

"We should get going," Derek was hesitant and he swayed back and forth on his feet. His hair was perfectly messy like it always was, body constricted in an expensive suit. He looked like he belonged there, in that overly-extravagant hotel, going to an interview on live TV. Stiles walked into the bathroom and blinked when he looked at himself and realized he might just belong there too.

The suit didn't do anything for his gangly appearance, all long arms and long legs and a stretched firm mid-section. The beta had never seen himself look so much older, like he was someone important, like he mattered to more than just Danny or his father.

He played with the hem of his shirt before he slid his glasses on and nodded, "Yeah, we should."

When they walked down the hall Stiles could feel the panic start to rise into his throat. It wasn't quick this time; someone wasn't pushing or pulling him away from a situation. He had to walk into that elevator on his own knowing the doors would shut behind them. Derek glanced at him when he jabbed at the button with his index finger, he didn't ask if he was okay, didn't ask if he would be okay. He just waited silently as Stiles tried to calm himself down from the inside out. 

The doors opened and Stiles felt a warm hand press against his lower back. He inhaled sharply and immediately grounded himself, not moving an inch when the alpha tried to push him forward. Stiles whimpered, "Der, I can't-"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence because Derek was hauling him inside and holding him still when he pressed the button for the doors to shut. It wasn't a very efficient way of dealing with the problem. Stiles felt his heart drop and sputter, kicking frantically against his rib cage. It felt like the walls were breathing, concaving back and forth towards him and he shuffled closer to his co-pilot who pulled at his arms, at his waist, finally at his chin as he lifted Stiles' face and growled for the young man to look at him.

Stiles blinked and trembled, reached out to grip onto Derek's forearms, "I'm gonna freak out, Derek, seriously-"

The bell rang, the doors opened and flashes of light obscured their vision. 

Derek's voice was strong, deliberate against his ear, "Smile, say nothing, look for Peter."

He had to snap out of it. He had to open his eyes and ignore the vibrations running through him. He straightened his back, pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and walked forward. 

His co-pilot was brilliant. Derek flashed his teeth, grinned and smiled and flicked his eyebrows when reporters shouted questions. He looked completely at ease, comfortable and... flirtatious? Stiles wanted to laugh at how utterly bashful some of the women were around him as they followed them out towards the lobby. A few people shouted Stiles' name, tried to shove their microphones towards his face. He didn't wince; he just glanced at them through the shadow of a shy smile and tried his best to look confident. 

"Titan Omega!" A woman shouted, pointing towards the left where the twins walked in synchronism, hands raised, waving towards the reporters. 

"Thank god," Derek huffed, nudging Stiles with his shoulder as they turned and saw Peter standing next to the doors. Hotel security was with him and walked out to greet Stiles and Derek as they stepped forward. Ethan and Aiden weren't far behind and as they approached a few more questions were shouted.

"Hale, what's it like to be back on the field without Whittemore by your side?" 

Derek's expression faded, his eyes fell to the ground and Stiles sucked in a breath of air. He couldn't help but shoot a poisonous glare over his shoulder towards the woman holding out the microphone, but the beta was smart enough not to say anything. He simply gripped his co-pilot's shoulder and slid into the car after him. 

That was something he should have prepared himself for. Something he should have thought about more. The fact that there was absolutely no way they were going to get through this interview without Jackson being brought up and Stiles didn't know exactly how Derek would react to something like that. He knew how the man felt, he had felt it himself. It was so much more than just the death of a close friend. Stiles swallowed and looked to his co-pilot who stared out the window.

"Hey," Stiles wanted to reach over and grab his hand but he refrained, "Derek," he pressed with his voice and finally the alpha looked over, staring into his lap. "Are you okay?" the words were soft, hidden from Peter who jabbered at the twins.  
Derek didn't say anything, he just looked back out the window.

"Lionheart," Peter gestured between the two of them, "You guys will be the second interview, right after Titan Omega. The Striker Team goes on last." 

Stiles nodded and Derek continued to stare out the window. Peter's aquamarine eyes narrowed dangerously and he kicked at the alpha's shin, "Derek," the alpha shot a dangerous glare towards his uncle, "get yourself together."

He watched his co-pilot stiffen, watched his shoulders hoist up and his back straighten, but he simply held his breath and gave a short nod before looking back out the window. Stiles didn't know how to react, what to say, who to look at, so he took out his phone and busied himself with texting Danny and Allison.

\------------------------------

The studio wasn't far and the closer they got the more anxious Stiles became. He breathed as evenly as he could, played with his fingertips and rubbed his slick palms against his pants. He didn't know what to expect, didn't know what questions would be asked and that was normal. Even if the station were to brief them that didn't mean much, it was live, if they wanted to throw out invasive questions then they would and the team would have to swallow their pride and deal with it.  
Stiles knew how impossible that was for Derek.

The group had met Erica and Boyd in the green room after they had been touched up, concealed and hair sprayed. The makeup artist flirted with Stiles, placed a finger under his chin and smirked at him when he blushed and turned away. It felt like everything was moving so quickly around him that the ranger didn't have time to put anything together. He was pushed from one room to another, offered coffee here, water there, told to sit here, stand there, smile for the camera. It was alien. More alien than being inside of a Jaeger.

"You doing okay?" Derek's voice pulled him back to reality as a stubborn hair dresser tried to fix Stiles' tie. Scattered eyes made their way to Derek's and the young ranger swallowed dryly before his co-pilot was batting at the woman and stepping in front of him.

Stiles' breath hitched when calloused fingertips stroked up his tie and gripped, tightening it with a swift tug. 

"No, I don't know- yes. Probably not. Yeah, I'm fine," Stiles stuttered as he rolled his eyes at himself and tried to hide behind a sarcastic smile even though he knew Hale saw right through it. 

They could hear laughter from the audience, the high-pitched cackle from the hostess and the deep throaty chuckles from the German twins currently answering questions. They were good, Stiles could admit that. Aiden and Ethan held their ground, cracked jokes and flirted with the crowd just like they were supposed to. They were aggressive and attractive and full of brute strength, the perfect candidates.

Peter's hand clamped down on Stiles' shoulder as he popped up next to him, "You know what to say and what not to say. Be vague, be playful, be charming," blue eyes blinked to Stiles whose eyebrow was quirked up and he shook his head before answering, "Since I'm just so charming to begin with." He didn't want to be sarcastic but at that point it was all he had left to hang on to. Nerves were humming like a swarm of locusts in his stomach, his knees rattled and he smoothed his fingers against each other over and over to conceal the way they shook. 

He didn't know what to expect. He didn't know what to say. For all he knew, Stiles would walk out on to the stage and not say a word. He would just lose his voice completely. 

"Thank you so much for your time, team Titan Omega everyone!" 

Stiles could hear Dorothy Hamilton closing out the interview and felt a tight burn start to spill up into his throat. 

Derek fidgeted next to him and they listened to the audience clap as Aiden and Ethan said their goodbyes.

"Stay tuned, next we have the resurrection of the mighty Lionheart!"

The music faded, the audience quieted and Stiles heard his name being called by an unfamiliar voice. A woman walked over and powdered his face again which made his nose crinkle and his eyelashes flutter. One of the crew members pulled the headset down off his ear and gestured to the two of them to walk out onto the set. 

Stiles followed Derek's lead even though he could hardly convince himself to take a step forward.

Dorothy Hamilton was a plump blonde woman with obscene red lips that made her teeth look yellow. Her mascara was clumped together and her eyebrows were far too thin. Stiles tried to force a smile when she stood up and waddled towards them with her hand extended, "Gentlemen, thank you for being on the show." As genuine as Stiles hoped she'd be, he could tell immediately that she wasn't quite the supporter when it came to the PPDC. 

They sat down and Stiles fiddled with his glasses until he noticed Derek watching him, nodding carefully until the beta placed his hands back down at his sides. The chairs were stiff, the set was far too cold and he couldn't breathe. It felt like the oxygen had been vacuumed out, like his breath was caught somewhere between his lungs and his mouth. He squirmed, smoothed long fingertips over his thighs and tried to find a steady place to keep his thoughts.

He inhaled slowly through his nose and held it until he felt Derek's elbow hit his shoulder and he exhaled, straightening his back when Dorothy took a seat behind the large wooden desk a foot or so away. The set was minimal, two chairs, a desk with a vase containing one fake rose and a window overlooking the Vegas strip. 

The director called for quiet on the set and the man behind the camera held his fingers up.

Three fingers.

Stiles closed his eyes.

Two fingers.

Derek whispered to relax.

One finger.

Amber eyes flicked open and the audience clapped when Dorothy flashed a well-practiced smile.

"Welcome back! Here with us now- the newly formed Team Lionheart!" Her voice was high and it made Stiles want to roll his eyes or flinch or laugh but he simply smiled down at his hands which were folded in his lap.

"The handsome and fearless, Derek Hale!" She gestured with an open palm to the alpha ranger who beamed back at her. Stiles was taken a-back by the grin, the fold of his dimples and the sheer ridiculous nature of the expression he wore. Hale was a completely different person on stage. A whole new kind of force when cameras were pointed at him and in some sickening way it made Stiles uncomfortable.

Women whistled from the audience, a few men hollered. Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"And his dashing co-pilot," her voice was sultry and she purred over the word 'dashing' which made Stiles' stomach turn, "Stiles Stillinski!"

He wasn't expecting it. He wasn't expecting the roar from the crowd, the over-whelming sound of hands beating against each other in applause. He gripped his palms together and pointed his eyes towards them, did exactly what Peter wanted him to do, lifted a brow and twisted his lips into a defiant smile.

Stiles glanced at Derek who eyed him smugly before they both turned towards their host and waited, laughing, fake and throaty when she gestured between the two of them, "What a sexy duo, don't you think?" 

The audience shouted again and Stiles felt heat begin to creep over the tops of his cheeks.

"The world was in awe when you took down that Kaiju with Titan Omega, how did it feel to be back out on the field, Derek?"

The room was quiet and Stiles could almost hear his co-pilot's heart rate accelerate.

Derek's fingers clenched, his jaw tightened but he flicked his pretty eyelashes, gave a curt smile and shrugged, "It was wonderful," youth invaded his voice, "I was only doing what I felt had to be done."

Dorothy nodded, eyes narrowing in mock commiseration, "And you," she jabbed her stare at Stiles, "right out of college, not even twenty-four with no military experience and a vague resume. How did it feel for you, Stiles?"

Her sarcasm made his blood boil and as many times as he had battered himself over his own lack of presence when it came to being a pilot, hearing her call him out on it was infuriating. He scoffed, eyes rolling in their sockets before he unclenched his hands from where they were laced and lifted his palms in mock surrender, "Trying to explain how it felt would take all night."

It was hard not to explode, not to crack and bite back but he knew the rules, he knew the game and he was willing to play.

"Well, you can tell us how he felt can't you, Derek?" She tapped her nails against the desk and tilted her head to the side, "Speaking of the drift how was that," her voice lowered, teetering on the edge of rough sympathy, "to share your world with someone other than Jackson Whittemore?"

Everything was still and Stiles wanted to rip the horrible extensions out of her hair, wanted to feed her to the Kaiju ticks Newt had in the back freezers of his lab. She was a cat out to chase mice, out to make a good story, to instill a sense of fear in the public and to humiliate the men and women who fought to keep her show on the air. Fought to keep her freedom intact. His teeth sank into his lip and Stiles sucked in a sharp breathe when he looked over and saw the hard line of Derek's jaw.

It was both impressive and haunting how undeniably good the man was at hiding his feelings because Stiles knew he was frothing with anger, yet none of it leaked. Not a single drop.

"The drift is a difficult and unique experience for everyone but Stiles and I are compatible and we work well together."

Short, sweet, and right on the fence dividing off-topic and inappropriate. Exactly what Peter had pitched to them.

"Ah," the woman grinned, "I'm so glad to hear that the death of your partner was so easily bypassed-"

"Jackson Whittemore gave his life defending your human existence," Stiles snapped, encouraging a gasp from a few of the audience members, "if you think that his death has been bypassed then perhaps you should re-watch the video of our excruciatingly quick fight with the category four Kaiju that took place hardly a day ago. The fact that we still climb into Jaeger's and fight aliens is proof enough that his death wasn't in vain."

It's quiet and Stiles could hear his own heartbeat. It was blown open wide like a speaker at a shitty rock concert, hollowing out his thoughts and causing his blood to rush. He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, fingertips moving to tap on the arm rest of the chair, "But if you'd like to talk about the drift I can assure you that Derek was pretty confused at first-"

He's got this. Stiles can do this. Amber eyes looked to the alpha who was trying his best to conceal the anger inside him. Whether it was pointed at him or Miss. Hamilton was unknown, but the beta reached out and poked playfully on the top of his hand, "I mean I speak a ton of different languages so trying to understand my thoughts, sift through my memories- It didn't come naturally, I'll tell you that much." 

Stiles lifted his brows. Winked. A woman in a blue dress called his name from the audience and Derek smiled. It wasn't a real smile but it was better than the acidity he wore so feverishly on his face only moments before.

Dorothy's lips were pursed but she flashed another toothy smile, "Ah, yes! The young world language major from Brown, how cute," she sat back with her arms folded across her chest, "seems to me the Pan Pacific Defense Corporation has much more in store for you than just playing with robots?" She hummed.

"Jaegers," Derek corrected, "and yes, Stiles is brilliant."

Stiles blushed and looked at his feet. He hated being complimented in general. Being complimented on live television was a whole new level.

"Besides his ruthless cunning and wiry fighting style, Stiles possesses a much more intricate skill set that could lead us to a deeper intelligence when it comes to the Kaiju. He's much more than just his degree."

The alpha's voice was firm even though he smiled as he spoke and the audience clapped in response. Stiles' eyelashes fluttered. It felt like someone had stuck a knife right between his ribs and he bit down on his cheek. He wanted Derek's words to be sincere but it was just an interview. A debut. A statement to the public. It wasn't what he actually thought. What he believed. Amber eyes moved to stare at him, a flash of complete disarray shielding his expression until he gripped his hands together and nodded. 

He had to stick to the plan, to the words he was taught not the words he wanted to say. He had already slipped once. 

"You speak so highly of someone you've only known, what? Three months?" Dorothy shook her head, "But I can only imagine the bond that you two share. On to another topic, the breach," she paused, "how does the PPDC plan on closing it again and for good?"

Derek shook his head and Stiles stayed quiet. They didn't know. No one knew. It was something that haunted the both of them day in and day out but there was nothing they could do except continue to fight. Continue to defend. To have courage.

The lights were blinding and Stiles ignored the twisting and curling going on in his stomach. He pinched himself idly on the wrist, curled his toes painfully back and forth in his shoes. The anxiety was suffocating but he didn’t have the time for it. Didn’t have the room for it. 

"Honestly, we're doing everything we can. Our men and women work daily to try and find a way to collapse the breach but first we need to properly know what we're dealing with, something that we neglected the first time around and for good reason-"

"No one really knew," Stiles finished his sentence, "What to do. Now we have more resources and readily available tools to help us close the breach a final time. Until then you have us and," the young ranger paused and looked towards the audience with his eyebrows raised, huffing out a breath, "I hope it's enough."

It was the youth that sold it. The charisma, the sensual way that Stiles spoke. It didn't give them answers but it gave them hope and for now that was all they needed. Just enough time to steer their viewers back to understanding how necessary the Jaeger program was. He didn't realize it, had never noticed how charming he had the potential to be. When it came to anything else in his life, anything real, not some interview with a pretentious overly-fed woman, he crumbled. He stammered, tripped over his words and honestly, Stiles had no idea how he had crawled his way through the interview as well as he did.

Dorothy smiled. The director held up a finger.

"Well, boys, our time is up! We thank you deeply for your time here and wish you all the best on the field! Give a round of applause to Derek Hale and Stiles Stillinski, Team Lionheart!"

The audience squawked again, clapped and stomped and yelled.

As soon as the red light on the camera died Derek was up and out of his seat, pacing quickly away and off stage. Stiles said nothing to the hostess when she tried to approach, he was far more concerned with his co-pilot and tried to tame the nervous clawing in his stomach as he walked after him.

Stiles had never thought he would have been able to act so calmly, to be so... iconic. 

It was foreign and misleading and as much as he wanted to hate it he didn't.

It felt good.

\------------------------------

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Derek's words echoed in the bathroom when Stiles opened the door. He gripped the edge of the sink and turned to look at his reflection, heaving in breath after breath. He looked like a nervous wreck, body was shaking, teeth were grinding together and Stiles had never seen him like this. He had never seen his co-pilot start to break.

Stiles wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand, grip his shoulder, wrap his arms around him, he didn't know what he wanted but he wanted to do something. Anything to calm him down. Derek was always so put together; he was always so... ready. 

"Der, it... I'm- I did the right thing, I mean, I-I've never done this before, I don't-"

"I don't want to talk about this. I don't want..." Derek's voice trailed away to rest somewhere in between the words he wanted to say and the words he knew were safe to say, "I don't want to talk about Jackson. I see enough of him in drift, I-"

"Derek," Stiles said his name too quietly, walked too briskly, placed his hand on the alpha's hip too firmly. His co-pilot jerked away, eyes set on the ground, "Don't," the ranger growled, "Stiles, just-" he sounded like he was drowning, "I'm not doing this right now."

Derek's shoulders rolled when he turned his back and walked away. His footsteps reminded him of his first break up in high school, his eyes had looked so serious, so hidden and Stiles despised it. He kicked himself, bundled himself around the anxiety throbbing inside him and wished he could be back and take back everything that happened.

Everything that made this hurt worse than it needed to.

"You have to talk to me about it sometime, Derek," Stiles called, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks with his hand resting on the door. Green eyes looked calmly over his shoulder but Derek said nothing, he just walked out and left Stiles to wonder what had just happened.

To wonder if he even knew which topic he was talking about, whether it was the trauma from Derek's past or the intimate details of what had been brewing between them. 

\------------------------------

Erica was wearing a red dress covered in sequin. It was strapless and hugged the curves that dipped below her ribcage and fanned out over her hips. Long legs reached towards the ground where her small dainty feet were shoved into shiny black stilettos. Bouncy curls were bigger than normal, eyes rimmed in black, dark and smoky. Her lips curved into a grin when Stiles walked towards her, but it faded as soon as she registered the expression riddled across his face.

"What's wrong?" She didn't bother with anything else and tilted her head to the side, hand resting on his arm. Stiles shook his head and nudged his shoulder behind him where Derek was slowly making his way towards the group. 

The twins were chatting with Peter, Boyd was on the phone and a few reporters strained against the wall of security that stood in front of the doors. They were waiting for the car and Stiles wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed back at Brown and leave the entire life he had built behind. 

"I shouldn't have said anything, Erica, I should have kept my mouth shut and let Derek deal with it-"

"Oh, are you fucking kidding me?" Erica raised her brows and jerked her head back to shoot a glare towards Derek as he walked over to stand next to Boyd a few feet away. Her heels clicked against the tile as she hauled Stiles towards the double doors leading out of the lobby, hissing and cursing, "Derek can't deal with his own fucking problems, what you did out there was perfect. You were perfect. Don't let his attitude problem make you feel like you didn't deserve-" she huffed, teeth grinding together, "You defended him on live television; did he say something to you?"

Stiles was silent. The last thing he wanted was to create a rift between his friends and he shook his head, hands settling on Erica's arms, "It's fine, he's pissed, it's not a big deal. Leave it alone," he stared at her long and hard from over the rim of his glasses, "He'll get over it. He's being emotional, just... please, Erica."

She rolled her eyes and nodded, "I won't say anything, but-"

"Alright, car’s here," Peter waved an arm towards the doors and Stiles sighed as he walked forward, "No, 'buts'-" Stiles mumbled over his shoulder to the woman as they walked through the doors to the onslaught of flashing cameras and shouting voices.

"Derek Hale how do you feel about your co-pilot's cowardly stab on live TV?"

A woman strained over the shoulder of a bulky security personnel and the alpha stopped, turning before he fixed the knot if his tie, "Stiles is anything but a coward."

Peter pushed his back into the limousine and Derek ducked, waiting for Stiles to climb in behind him. They watched each other carefully, Derek trying to apologize with his eyes while Stiles tried to disconnect himself from the situation entirely. He knew Derek. He knew Derek better than anyone else ever would.

Yet as he looked at him while the twins clambered into the seats next to them Stiles couldn't help but feel like he really didn't know Derek like he wanted to. It was like Stiles had read him in a different language, analyzed him, memorized him, but hadn't really absorbed him.

Honey eyes fell to his lap where he fumbled to play with the beds of his nails and warmth wound through the divots of his spine when Derek's foot bumped against his own.

\------------------------------

It wasn't an easy fix. There were no words exchanged, no apology or asking of forgiveness from either of them. It seemed easier that way, to ignore the situation and push it out of reach until both of them were calm enough to really address it. It wasn't the place or time to talk about their life or Derek's past, not in a car full of their friends who had already popped open a bottle of champagne and were falling over themselves.

Derek laughed and Stiles visibly watched the tension instilled in him by the interview begin to drain. His eyes started to soften, jaw wasn't pinched tight and his hands flexed over the black pants covering his knees.

Everything about this debut seemed rushed, from the flight to the interview, back to the very tangible threads stretched tight between Stiles and Derek, and now to this. A club. He hadn't been inside of a night club since his second year in college and as exciting as it was, the beta was more nervous than he was anything else.

They were dropped off in front of the Wynn and Peter ushered them out, passing them off to security who escorted them up the escalators to the red ropes that led directly inside XS. 

A man dressed in a white suit greeted them before he opened the door, "Ah, rangers, welcome to XS, the number one nightclub on the Las Vegas Strip. It's an open bar for each of you tonight compliments of the Wynn, enjoy yourselves."

The twins bounded through the door, shoving and pushing each other as they went. Erica looped her arm through Stiles' and winked at Boyd who rolled his eyes and turned to say something to Derek that Stiles couldn't hear, something he really wasn't concerned with at the moment. 

His eyes darted around the dark expanse. Bodies shifted together on the packed dance floor, lasers and lights erupted from the stage where a DJ pressed buttons on a keyboard and kept the bass vibrating through the room. Large purple couches were crowded around tables shrouded in shadows along the back end of the club. There were two bars, one on the left and one outside on the patio. "Jesus," Stiles laughed against the side of Erica's head when she put her hands flat on the top of the bar, "this place is huge."

"Jaeger bombs," Erica held up two fingers to the bar tender who nodded and smiled. She gestured with her hand to the end of the bar where Ethan and Aiden were already signing autographs and hoisting women onto their laps. A handsome young man pressed his lips against Ethan's cheek, a woman stroked her hand down his tie, Aiden busied his hands around the back of a pretty little things thighs, thumbing the pale skin at the hem of her dress. "Look at that, already getting started," Erica laughed through the words and Stiles nodded.

He arched a brow when the shot was handed to him and swallowed dryly. Drinking in his apartment? Fine. Drinking at a small local bar? Not a big deal. Doing shots at a nightclub in Las Vegas after debuting? Nerve racking. 

Erica clanked her glass against his and tipped it against her lips. The liquid burned when it hit his tongue and he winced when it poured down his throat, exhaling a raspy sigh before he set it back down on the bar. 

"Double fireball," the blonde slid her glass towards the bartender and held up two fingers again.

Stiles shook his head vigorously, "No, no, Erica, I'm fine. I don't need a double fucking anything- I should, uh, I should take it slow." 

The woman rolled her eyes and handed him the large shot glass once it was set down in front of them, "You're going to drink this and then you're going to dance with me."

"Uh, Erica, I- uhm, maybe the whole gay thing didn't quite make sense the first time-"

"Shut up! Like you've never grinded with your straight friends before, drink that and dance with me," Erica coughed after shooting the cinnamon liquor to the back of her throat and squeezed her eyes shut. She glanced over to Boyd who was standing with Peter and Derek on the other end of the bar. Stiles almost gagged on the shot and stuck his tongue between his teeth when his eyes started to water. He knew that drinking with Erica probably wasn't the smartest idea, but Scott wasn't there and neither was Allison and he couldn't say no to her. 

Besides, dancing was fun and Erica wasn't shy. Not one bit.

She pulled on his tie, laughed against his ear and rolled her hips against his to the loud beat of some electronic song Stiles had never heard before. His mind was starting to blur, eyes clouding behind the alcohol now buzzing in his veins. His fingertips curled around her waist, pulled the strong female against him and barked a laugh against the side of her face when one of her hands tangled in his hair. 

It felt good to let go, to have fun after such a stressful night.

Erica stepped back and fanned herself after four or so songs, pointed to the bar and Stiles nodded, taking her hand when they squirmed their way off the packed dance floor.

The strobe lights flickered behind them and Stiles wrapped his arm around Erica's waist when she stumbled in her heels. They threw their heads back, laughing and pressing their hands against each other, petting and cooing until Stiles looked towards the bar.

He stopped. Feet planted hard against the tile. It was so abrupt that the blonde hanging on him almost fell and caught herself through a slurred curse. "Stiles, what the- oh... oh, shit," she swallowed when she found the image that had Stiles so transfixed on the bar.

Derek sat on one of the stools, a glass in his hand, with a handsome young man dragging a fingertip across his shoulder. The alpha's lips were spread into an amused smile, his free hand shoved in his pocket while he took a sip from the drink he held with the other. The stranger pressed against his side wasn't subtle and Stiles saw Derek shift his leg when a stray hand brushed over the top of his knee.

He didn't know if it was the alcohol, the situation, the exhaustion or the excitement. He didn't know what it was, but something was boiling inside him, melting the marrow in his bones and driving a wedge into his spine. Stiles hadn't felt anger or jealousy like that since his senior year of high school.

Erica didn't bother to stop him when he fell into a surprisingly even stride towards them. He didn't coach himself, he wasn't fidgeting, no nerves. Just blind action.

"Hey," his voice was stiff and Derek blinked at him, a blush tinting the tops of his cheeks.

"Oh, is this the guy that fights in the robot with you?" the stranger had an annoying voice, his lips were thin and he had a smile that said he'd been demeaned far too many times in his life. 

Derek nodded and opened his mouth to speak but the man beat him to it, leaning close to purr loudly against the alpha's shoulder, "So when I suck your dick tonight, he'll remember it?"

Stiles stomach clenched, his fingertips popped when they curled into fists and he glanced at the stranger before his gaze moved to Derek. The sound of the music was deafening but Stiles could see the flash of fear in his co-pilots eyes. 

"You'll get to see it won't you?" 

Stiles blinked when the man spoke directly to him, eyes challenging and wicked when they looked to the beta. He silenced the voice in the back of his mind that told him not to do exactly what came to mind first. 

Stiles slammed his palm over the back of the man’s skull, thrusting him down and bouncing his forehead off the top of the bar. His body slouched onto the ground and he cried out, clutching his nose as Stiles took a step back and gave a curt nod, "Ah, yeah- you'll remember me too, huh?"

Erica's hands were plastered over her mouth, her eyes were wide and Boyd started laughing, spilling the beer he was holding in one hand.

Ethan and Aiden were crowded around Stiles in moments, jabbering in German and asking if he needed their help. 

Peter pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, cursing and stomping over to help the poor drunk young man off the floor. 

Derek's fingers curled around Stiles' forearm and tugged far too roughly on him, face blistered with anger and embarrassment, "What the fuck was that?" His words snapped against Stiles' ear and the ranger shoved at his co-pilot's chest until he writhed out of the alpha's hold.

"Are you kidding me, Der?! Are you really- seriously? You're going to ask me that?"

"Yes, Stiles! I didn't take you for," he swung his arm and gestured the man now being hoisted up, holding his bloodied face, "someone capable of-"

"Defending what's mine?"

Stiles didn't think about what he said, he just blurted the words and brushed Erica off when she tried to pull him away from the scene. The words came out naturally and felt light on his tongue, but he thought perhaps that was the alcohol because goose bumps were raising across his arms and down his back, reminding him of the power in a statement like that.

Reminding him that Derek wasn't his.

Peter was talking with security and they agreed to let the group stay, it didn't take much convincing, technically they could have rented the club out if they'd wanted to.

When Derek turned and walked away Stiles felt his knees start to shake. Ethan steadied him and Aiden swatted him on the back, "You two?" He pointed between Derek's broad shoulders which disappeared into the bathroom and Stiles' chest, eyebrows raised in a silent question. 

Amber eyes closed and Stiles pushed his glasses up, biting down hard on his lip when the room started to sway, "We're nothing," the beta assured, nodding his head towards the bar, "I just want another drink."

\------------------------------

Stiles didn't see Derek for another hour.

He had two more drinks and waved to Erica when she left to retire with Boyd for the night. He didn't want it to hurt, he didn't want it to be excruciating. It was like a bullet lodged somewhere, shallow and annoying, causing a storm to rage inside Stiles' already compromised mind. It was exactly what Derek had said, it could kill them and he was right, it was already starting to.

The club was hot and Stiles ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the press of fingertips against his torso on the dance floor. They weren't calloused or hot; they didn't push in the places that made Stiles sigh and arch. They were just there, attached to someone with a crooked smile and blue eyes who had introduced himself at the bar.

He danced with Stiles, pressed his lips against the smooth skin of the pilot's jaw and attempted to mumble sexy things in his ear. Stiles wasn't interested. He wasn't interested in any of it.

Not until steady hands gripped his hips and pulled him backwards.

Whoever the blue eyed stranger was backed up immediately when he saw who the hands belonged to, ducking behind someone to exit the dance floor.

You can hold on if you want to,  
But you know I never let you go.  
Ain't nobody there to talk to,  
Nobody's a whole in this life.

Stiles smirked, eyes rolling when the hands gripped harder on his waist, thick thumbs smoothing over the angular bones underneath his belly button. He knew it was Derek, he could smell his cologne, could tell by the scar on his right hand above the second knuckle of his middle finger. He felt the rumble of a growl against his ear and turned, resting his back against the chest behind him.

"I get it," Derek hissed possessively, "but it goes both ways."

Stiles swayed before he twisted on his heel to face to alpha, "What does?" His voice was confident and he tilted his head to the side, reaching to play with Derek's tie when green eyes darted away to look at the stage where the DJ sat behind a wall of lights. 

"I don't want anyone touching you," Derek's voice was pinched and he gritted his teeth, hands moving up to pull Stiles against him. Their waists were flush and Stiles' nose bumped against the side of Derek's face, a short breathy gasp sucked in when his co-pilot ran a hand up his spine and rested on the back of his neck.

"I'm surprised you weren't as v-violent as I was, he was getting pretty handsy-" Stiles' words were muffled by the press of Derek's mouth over his own. Their teeth clanked and long fingers wound into the back of Derek's hair when he tilted his head and devoured the kiss like it was filled with oxygen, like it was the first breath he had taken all night. It was a sloppy mess as they stumbled and rocked against each other until the two found purchase against a speaker towards the front of the crowd.

They ignored the 'oh my gods' and didn't pay mind to the shocked gasps from the other patrons in the club who witnessed their very blatant display of public affection. 

Stiles gripped his tie, pulled him down and lifted his knee to brush over the alpha's hip when his back found the vibrations of the grated amplifier. They breathed against one another, bit down on each other’s throats, pulled and tugged at each other’s hair and Derek groaned when Stiles pressed himself between his legs and rolled his hips to the melody booming through the speakers. 

Smile

Derek mouthed the word because neither of them would have been able to hear their own voice if they tried to speak and Stiles lifted an eyebrow when his partner nudged his chin towards a couple of young women with their cell phones out and pointed at them.

Stiles' hand was pressed against the side of the alpha's face and he offered a small twist of his lips which made them all blush even though they were obviously unashamed of the picture or video they had been taking of the duo. 

"Hello ladies! Oh, yes, thank you! Oh, what's that, oh that's the sound of these videos being deleted-" Peter snatched each of their phones from out of their hands and pressed a few buttons before he handed them back, "Oh, that's not fair? Neither is your unimpressive attempt at a smoky eye and your cheap Macy's dress." 

Their PR manager turned on his heels and gripped them both by the shoulder when Stiles leaned in to press his lips back against Derek's.

"Oh my fucking- I knew this would fucking happen! Raleigh is- oh, god- just, go to your room!" 

The alpha snorted a laugh and dragged his co-pilot through the crowd, holding onto his hand as they weaved through bodies smashed against one another. They ran into the twins on their way out who hooted and hollered at them in German and gave them both a thumbs up when they stumbled into a wall with their lips mangled together. 

\------------------------------

It was convenient that their hotel was right next door to the Wynn and they took their time walking there. It was late, nearly three in the morning and Derek was just as intoxicated as Stiles was. They laughed, fell on each other down the strip and stopped a few times to push one another against anything sturdy enough to hold them up.

Derek bummed a cigarette off a teenager who asked for his autograph and told him that he looked good with Stiles. The alpha blushed and chuckled, mumbled a thank you when the young girl reached up to light his smoke for him.

"I didn't know you smoked," Stiles wrinkled his nose and tilted his head to the side as they crossed over the bridge that led into the Cosmopolitan. The alpha shrugged and exhaled a breath of smoke into the chilly Vagas air, "I don't, usually. I sometimes do when I drink."

Stiles nodded and asked for a drag, reaching two fingers out to grasp to Camel menthol but Derek smiled dumbly and grasped his hand, backing him up against the railing near the outdoor elevator before he pressed his mouth over Stiles' letting the smoke be pushed through his lips. It leaked between them, curling up against their nostrils and causing the rangers lungs to heave. The beta wondered if his co-pilot smoked to relive the day of the fire because when he inhaled the puff of chemicals and nicotine it almost felt the same as it did in Derek's memories.

They didn't bother with the straggling reporters hanging outside the elevator and when the doors opened Derek pushed Stiles so hard that his back hit the mirrored wall and he winced. The alpha stepped in and hauled him forward by the already slacked tie around his neck.

It was disgusting how much they didn't care, how many people they let see them as they clumsily padded down the hall, pausing to grab or touch or kiss each other until they finally made it into their room. Derek didn't bother with trying to get to the bed after Stiles tripped, he simply toppled to the ground with him and made work on their clothes, tugging and unzipping and throwing off whatever they could.

"I can't believe you smashed that poor kids face against the bar," Derek breathed the words through a laugh against Stiles' throat and the beta chuckled in response.

"What would you have-"

"He'd be dead," Derek interrupted smugly, capturing Stiles' lips in another long and languid kiss. 

Stiles didn't think of anything, he didn't think of the problems, the reporters, the interview. He didn't think of the mess he could have potentially made at the club, of Shatterdome or Kaiju or Jaegers. At that point it wasn't an escape, wasn't anxiety or power that drove him to finally climbing into bed with Derek Hale.

"We've drank alot," the words left Stiles' mouth and ended in a breathy moan when Derek bit down on his rib cage and shimmied him out of his briefs.

"Yeah, we have," the alpha rubbed the soft skin of his cheek against the body beneath him, up over his stomach to his chest and Stiles smiled at the feeling of baby smooth flesh. He felt so delicate, so strange compared to the rough burn of stubble he had experienced before.

"You're not gonna regret this are-" Derek bit down and slid his hand along the inside of Stiles' thigh, silencing him for the time being.

It wasn't as rough as Stiles had expected. They clawed and writhed and rolled around between the stock white sheets of the hotel bed. Stiles' back arched when Derek pressed against him and Derek whined low and needy into Stiles' shoulder when he bucked his hips.

Stiles swore he had never felt fire until he touched Derek, had never seen something as beautiful as he was when he bit down on his lip and threw his head back. When he threaded his fingers through Stiles' hair and when he begged and sighed against his ear.

He had never felt anything like Derek’s hands on him, like his lips and tongue pressed against the most intimate parts of him. Stiles had never been broken apart so carefully, never been opened up so tenderly.

If this was what it was all for than it was worth it. If the program, the training, the battles, the interview, if it was all for this than Stiles knew it was worth it.

The way Derek choked on his voice, the way his breath hitched and body clenched when Stiles was under him or on top of him, near him. It was worth it. He was worth it.

Stiles fell asleep that night to the sound of Derek breathing and for the first time in a long time he didn't dream of dying.

\------------------------------

Notes: 

The song lyrics to the music that is playing in the club when they're dancing together is: Without You by Dillon Francis 

Sorry this chapter took so long! I've been super busy but I'm going to try and get another chapter in soon, hopefully in the next week :D thanks for reading! 

you can find me on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter Ten

The best thing about Vegas hotel rooms were the thick dark curtains that blanketed the windows, shut out the bother of honking horns, eager voices and dancing fountains that crashed below. The room was perfectly air conditioned, causing goose bumps to rise over the exposed flesh of Stiles' arm. He shifted slightly, nuzzled himself down into the comforter until he felt a warm arm tighten around his abdomen. Tired eyes peeled open, hips pressed back against the bare skin of Derek's waist and he smiled fondly to himself. Time was irrelevant. The date was irrelevant. Nothing seemed to matter except the rise and fall of the chest behind him. 

"Do you always wake up this early?" Derek's voice was a sigh against the nape of his neck and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep from gasping at the sudden rush of heat below the back of his skull. He wanted to justify the chills darting across the top of his shoulders, to explain the sudden ache in his lower belly, but he didn't need to. All the justification, all the proper blame was pressed snugly along his spine, drawing lazy circles above his belly button.

"No," Stiles yawned, "I-"

He sucked in a sharp breath as Derek tugged at his arm and turned him over. Stiles' eyes rolled and he shifted back onto his side to face his co-pilot, breath catching when the alpha nosed underneath his chin and pressed his face against Stiles' throat, "I was cold." 

Derek hummed but he didn't respond, he simply breathed against him and nudged his knee between Stiles' legs, tangling them together beneath the sheets.

It wasn't necessarily foreign but Stiles was still nervous. He didn't know what to do with his hands or his mouth, where to rest his arms or whether he should pester Derek to wake up or try his best to fall back to sleep. The volume of comfortability was staggering due to the time they spent in drift. Stiles knew that Derek liked his scalp scratched, knew he didn't like to be tickled and he couldn't stand when people wore shirts to bed with him. One thing he hadn't realized was that Derek was quite the fan of pressing himself up against whoever was in bed with him and wrapping himself around them like a god damn octopus.

"I didn't take you for a cuddler," Stiles mumbled, mucking up enough bravery to bury his face in the messy disheveled pile of hair on Derek's head. 

The only response he got consisted of strong arms tightening around him and smooth palms rubbing down the expanse of his back. Stiles trailed his fingers along the small ridges on the top of Derek's spine and closed his eyes.

They didn't have anywhere to be and he didn't have any complaints to sleeping the day away confined to a bed with Derek.

It was wonderful until both of their phones started to ring two hours later.

Derek growled and grumbled as he turned over and swatted at the night stand, grabbing blindly for his phone. Stiles hissed, pawing relentlessly at his eyes, "Who the fuck..." he tried to move but the ranger next to him clasped his hand over his hip and pushed him back down into the mattress, laying his head on Stiles' chest. 

"Hello," Derek bit into the speaker.

Stiles stared at his phone on the other night stand as it buzzed again and again.

"What? No- oh, well," Derek was laughing and Stiles arched an eyebrow, peering down at him as he spoke, "that... That isn't entirely untrue. Yes. No. Raleigh it- he, alright, alright," green eyes turned up towards Stiles who was still rubbing at his eyes and gnawing on his lip. He set the phone down and Stiles moved to grab his own phone.

"It's Allison," he glanced to Derek who nodded.

"Hello?" Stiles blinked a couple times before groaning and smoothing his free hand over his face.

"Derek's right next to me," Stiles mumbled, "No- yes... Yes. Fuck, okay, see you tomorrow."

His stomach clenched and his co-pilot wrapped an arm back around his waist, "What'd she say?"

Stiles ignored him and continued to tap on his phone, snatching his glasses off the night stand so he could slide them up the bridge of his nose. He didn't know whether to laugh or to be completely mortified by the images now surfacing on the screen. "Oh, fuck..." the beta closed his eyes briefly and inhaled through his nose, held it in before he swiped his finger across the screen again and physically winced.

"What is it?" Derek craned his neck to try and see what was causing Stiles so much pain.

"We're on TMZ," Stiles exhaled through a whine, amber eyes fluttering closed.

The phone was ripped from his hands as Derek shot up in the bed and narrowed his eyes down at the device.

The first picture was of them smiling over their shoulders, the next of them walking through the lobby, a few stills from the interview and then- 

Derek covered his mouth with his hand when he started to laugh.

It wasn't even close to being a humorous situation; nothing about it was laughable or comical in the least. There were pictures of them dancing, pictures of them pressed against the grated surface of the speaker along with a few shots of them stumbling back to the hotel, messy, drunk and all loose smiles. 

"It's not that bad," Derek arched a brow and Stiles shook his head, blowing a sigh towards the ceiling. A deep blush was settled over the tops of his cheeks and he hissed, "What do you mean it's not that fucking bad, Derek?" 

The alpha laughed again, falling over on the opposite side of the bed to curl himself further into the blankets. Stiles let himself look, he let his eyes rake across the bare flesh that was pulled tight over toned muscle, gazed at the curve of the alpha's hip, the ripple on his abdomen, the concave beneath each of his collar bones. Derek Hale. Stiles slept with Derek Hale.

"I knew as soon as you smashed that guy's face into the bar that we were bound to end up on some kind of website," he shrugged and yawned, swatting the place next to him. Stiles blushed and wrinkled his nose which seemed to please Derek more than anything else. He gripped the young ranger’s wrist and tugged roughly, "It's something we have to deal with if-"

"If what?" Stiles interrupted before he fell next to his co-pilot. 

There was a certain tension that seemed to weave between them, the unanswered question, the rushed, determined vice that choked both of them. It was choking Stiles, that was for sure. He could feel it, wrapped around his throat, warning and consoling, mimicking something that he felt in high school, something that mirrored an affliction he hadn't experienced since his first couple years in college. It was so utterly complicated but when he looked at Derek he saw far more than just complication.

Stiles choked on a breath when Derek slung his leg over the narrow hips that the beta sported and caged his arms around him. His heart thudded against his rib cage and Stiles swallowed dryly, watching as mossy green eyes flicked across his face, "If we're gonna do this," Derek mumbled.

"Are we?" the words came out rushed, a breath against Derek's cheek when he leaned down and grazed his mouth across Stiles' temple. He didn't understand how someone he knew inside and out, someone he had spent half the night memorizing with his hands and tongue and-

Derek kissed him and his grip on the thoughts in his head slipped. A gentle pull and press, completely different than any other they had shared. It wasn't like their first, fast and hard, nor was it like their second, inhibited by the exhilaration of battle and slathered in desperation. It wasn't drunk and dripping with jealousy.

It was quiet. Slow. Long, languid movements that had Stiles gulping down air between Derek's lips because he had forgotten to breathe. He didn't know why he was being so reserved, why Derek still made him so nervous, still had him convinced that this was all just a mistake. That they would go back to Shatterdome and act like nothing happened. It wasn't even the alpha that was trying to convince him of that, he was doing it all to himself. Every piece of denial. Every reservation.

Stiles cursed against his mouth and lifted all but steady hands to rest on the sides of Derek's face, feeling across the poke of stubble that was already peeking out of the smooth pores on his cheeks. 

He opened his eyes when Derek pulled back, stared up at him without question because both of them knew what they were doing. They knew that they were only making everything worse, making their lives more difficult, straining the percentage of staying alive even further.

"Yes," Derek nodded and leaned down, "We're doing this."

Stiles didn't have a chance to respond and he didn't need to. Derek pressed his mouth back down over his own and he inhaled through his nose, arching up to meet the slow grind of strong hips between his legs.

We're doing this

The words echoed, bouncing and reverberating off the confines of his mind and Stiles hummed softly, enjoying every syllable. 

\------------------------------

"Are you kidding me?!" Peter's voice was gritted and rough as he pulled the words through his teeth, "It's two. Two in the afternoon. And you both are still-" he was standing at the foot of the bed and gestured to the two with their backs resting against the headboard, a few plates of food strewn across their laps, "did you see? Did you see yourselves on the internet because guess who has to clean up that mess?" 

Derek shoved a piece of French toast in his mouth and Stiles started peeling an orange.

"Rangers!" Peter's voice elevated and Stiles suddenly felt like the situation could be more serious than what was being let on, "Do you even- do you understand what the lobby looks like right now?"

Stiles felt his stomach drop and he glanced at Derek who bumped his foot against Stiles' under the covers. It hadn't quite slipped his mind, but it wasn't something he had truly sat back and thought about, not the press or the rumors or the gossip that was going to spread like wild fire after the pictures of their intoxicated antics were released. "You two need to get up, get showered and get on a plane back to Shatterdome in four hours while I handle this. I'm approaching this as a drunken mishap if you guys don't tell me otherwise, so what is it?"

It was quiet longer than Stiles would have liked it to be and he could feel Derek's eyes tracing the contours of his face, waiting for some kind of affirmation. A nod. A sigh. Anything that would confirm their sudden relationship. He stayed still before he looked to his co-pilot over the rim of his glasses and bright eyes blinked back at him.

"Tell them we're together," Stiles spoke clearly in Derek's direction before he turned his attention to Peter who pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at his nephew.

Derek shrugged, "You heard him." 

\------------------------------

Derek's lips were like hot coals against his mouth in the elevator, working hard to keep Stiles' in his own cage rather than in the cage that was slowly dropping fifty-one stories. "Are you okay-" Derek growled when Stiles bit down on his lips and trembled, pressing further into his arms. His breath was shaky and he swallowed, tugging at the hem of Derek's muddy green t-shirt.

"You ready?" Stiles croaked out the words and glanced towards the door when the bell rang, leaning forward as Derek stepped away from him and turned to face the doors which slid open.

As soon as their feet hit the polished tile of the lobby floor they heard their names being called. The alpha wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist and he didn't know whether it was for show, sheer affection or protection and either way he didn't mind. His stomach was doing flips and he clenched his fists to try and disguise the trembles twitching at the ends of his fingertips. The flashes from cameras blinded them but Derek just kept walking, a smile plastered to his face as he ignored the intrusive questions thrown their way.

A couple hotel security guards helped them to the door where Peter was waiting with the twins. Both Ethan and Aiden looked ridiculously hung over. Sunglasses hid their eyes and they had their arms folded over their chests. Aiden yawned and Ethan texted someone on his phone, nodding towards Stiles and Derek as they approached.

"Ladies, gentlemen," Peter had his arms fanned out as he walked forward, creating a visual barrier between him and the teams that stood next to the glass doors of the hotel, "our rangers will be doing a press conference in a couple months, until then please keep your questions at bay." 

"How will your romance affect your ability to defend our planet?"

"How long has this been going on?"

"What happens when you two break it off? Do we lose yet another Jaeger team?"

The questions being spat were more than hurtful and Stiles swayed between pressing closer to Derek or moving further away. A soft thumb rubbed just above the waist band of Stiles' jeans and he sighed softly, deciding to lean into Derek and try his best to block out the curious shouts that Peter couldn't keep away. 

The car showed up minutes later and Stiles hurried to climb in behind Ethan who turned and shot him a smile, "wie war er?" 

The beta choked on a laugh and arched a brow, "würden Sie nicht gerne wissen?" 

Ethan nodded enthusiastically and Stiles shook his head, "Nosy little bastard," he shoved the German pilot playfully and glanced to Peter when he finally settled in next to Derek in the car. The man looked exhausted and well spent. 

"Thanks," Stiles watched him carefully as steel blue eyes lifted. 

The older Hale shrugged and offered a smile, "Anything for family," he kicked Derek playfully in the shin who rolled his eyes and bit back the shadow of a smile.

The twins rambled in German all the way to the airport and Stiles tried to keep himself from bursting out in laughter at their recap from last night. Sometimes he thought they forgot that he could understand them. Apparently they brought more than one person back to the hotel and played pranks on them, tricking them into thinking Ethan was Aiden and Aiden was Ethan. Once Aiden barked about falling asleep in the bathtub with a Victoria’s Secret model and her boyfriend, Stiles couldn't hold it back and he buckled over in unashamed laughter.

"Fucking A, and we're the ones who made it on TMZ," the words were sloshed between chuckles and Stiles shook his head back and forth. Aiden shot a toothy grin towards Peter who rolled his eyes and Ethan smirked, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's because there's two of us," Ethan nudged Aiden's shoulder, "They don't know who fucks who."

Stiles choked on the laugh that came rushing from between his lips and even Derek cracked a smile. Peter on the other hand was less than amused and rolled his eyes, heaving a tired sigh, "For the love of god, get out. We're here." 

Peter climbed out first and Stiles didn't even have a chance to look before Erica was purring against his face and pulling him away. He blinked and pushed his glasses up, stumbling to keep up with her as she paced ahead towards the check in at the airport.  


"Holy shit, Stiles," her voice was a hiss and she grinned at him slyly, "You guys- really? I mean, I'm not really surprised but at the same time-"

"Why aren't you surprised?" Stiles whined, jutting out his bottom lip playfully.

Erica shrugged, "It's kind of normal for co-pilots to feel an attraction to each other but I never thought Derek would-"

"Like me," Stiles mumbled under his breath.

She swatted him hard in the chest, "No, you idiot, everyone knew he liked you, no one thought he would make a move though. I thought the time in your apartment was just-" She waved her hands and pursed her lips, "you know, one of those things." 

The beta looked over his shoulder at Derek who was talking with Boyd as they were escorted through security and walked to their gate. He had never thought, not once, that Derek actually had any sort of feelings for him. Desire? Sure, he could play along with that, but it hadn't been until that morning that Stiles felt like his co-pilot might actually want something tangible with him. He couldn't comb through the emotions shifting this way or that way and as much as every part of him wanted to continue to focus on the turn his relationship with the alpha had taken, he had other things to worry about.

Like the reality of his occupation, the reality that just because he and Derek were... together- Stiles stomach flipped and he gnawed on the inside of his cheek. Just because he was with Derek that didn't change that they had a job to do.  


They were Jaeger pilots and their foolishness didn't change that.

"Have you heard anything from Lydia or Herc? What's going on back at Shatterdome?" Stiles looked over to Erica and she seemed quite thrown by the sudden change of pace but the woman sighed and shrugged her shoulders.  


"Nothing serious I guess, just a couple of things. The breach is speeding up but not as quickly as it was the first time. It looks like we'll be having another event in a week or so." 

Stiles nodded and Erica watched him, eyebrows pulled together, "Are you okay?" her voice was more than concerned as she moved her hand to gently brush across his arm. Stiles shifted and tugged at the hem of his white t-shirt, "I'm fine, I just want to get this flight over with." That was a lie and Erica saw right through it, but she patted him on the back, rubbed her thumb in small circles and whispered that she understood. 

He didn't know if she did though. If she properly grasped how quickly the situation had escalated, how ridiculous they had been, how selfish he and Derek were.

If it was even real. If any of this was even real.

\------------------------------

**Danny Māhealani November 15, 2031, 6:06 P.M**  
DEREK MOTHERFUCKING HALE?!?!?!?!?!

Stiles rolled his eyes.

**Laurie Michealson November 15, 2031, 6:10 P.M**  
omg stiles hes so hot why didnt you call us?

"Whose Laurie?" Derek purred her name as he leaned over Stiles shoulder and glanced at the screen of his phone. The beta growled and pulled the device away, shielding it from the prying green eyes that narrowed playfully. "Friend from school?"

Stiles nodded and nudged him away with his shoulder, "Yeah, she was in my Lit class first semester," he chewed on his bottom lip and typed out some kind of sarcastic reply before shoving his phone back into his pocket, "Have you heard from anyone?"  


Derek snorted a laugh and shook his head, eyes rolling towards the paneled roof of the plane, "Yes."

His attention was stolen by the twins who sat three rows in front of them and were craning over their seats, "Hey lion, which one's Nala and which one's Simba?" Aiden almost couldn't finish his own sentence and Ethan's eyes crinkled closed as he laughed. The alpha rolled his eyes and shook his head while Stiles blushed and gritted his teeth, turning to glance out the window.

There was so much of him that wanted to brush it off, wanted to resist, to discredit everything. It was the first time since Stiles had arrived at Shatterdome that he hadn't wanted to fall into something, that he was scrambling to catch himself, desperate to find the ground, to find anything stable to hold on to. It seemed like everything had flipped, gravity had reversed, life had started swallowing itself because Stiles wasn't supposed to be with Derek, he was just supposed to fight with him and he wasn't supposed to actually have Derek, he was just supposed to want him. His chest heaved and he sucked in a shaky breath, lip worried from his teeth and stomach fluttering from the press of anxiety and the roil of nerves that coursed through him. 

Derek rested his hand gently on Stiles' knee and he closed his eyes. 

"Are you okay?" the alpha's voice was softer than normal and Stiles winced because he wasn't, not in the slightest.

"Yeah," Stiles breathed shakily.

He felt the hand tighten on his leg and the ranger stared out the window, desperate to figure out what the fuck kind of situation they had hurled themselves into and how exactly they were supposed to make it work.

\------------------------------

"Hello rangers," Raleigh had his hands folded across his chest as he glanced between Stiles and Derek who wore their jet-lag prominently. Stiles pawed at his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded, glancing to Scott who stood behind him, polishing a piece of metal that fit over one of Striker Eureka's knuckle pieces. "How was Vegas?" Becket smirked, voice ruff and warm as he arched a brow and licked across his lips, tilting his head to the side.

Scott meowed.

Derek narrowed his eyes and Stiles jerked his head back before Raleigh turned to look over his shoulder, "What was that, McCall?" 

Scott shrugged and shook his head, "Oh, that was just the sound of the cat being completely out of the bag."

Raleigh closed his eyes to try and keep from laughing and Derek looked to the ceiling, lips squirming to halt whatever noise, whether it be laughter or curses that threatened to spill from his mouth.

Stiles blushed and bit down on his lip before the silent laughter he tried to contain came out snorted and he buried his head in his hands, heaving a sigh. 

\------------------------------

In the three days after they returned from Shatterdome Stiles had heard from Scott, Allison, Danny, Laurie and last but not least, his father. It was a conversation he certainly was not ready for and one that had him slumped against the door of the gym, biting down on his lip. When his father laughed on the other end he couldn't help but crack a smile, "No, Dad... I don't- I don't know how it happened... it just kind of did." He shook his head and moved a hand to rake through his hair, "Yeah, we're scheduled to be sent out next week but it really depends on the severity of the breach, what? No, yeah... We'll be fine; we just have to keep our heads steady." He listened, croaked out an 'I love you' towards the end of the conversation and sighed when he slid his phone back into his pocket.

There had been fleeting touches here and there, the brush of Derek's hand pressing against his lower back in the kitchen, the dust of his lips against Stiles' temple. It was all so controlled. So precise and it made everything that much worse to know that the alpha was being tame to accommodate to Stiles' fleeting emotions. 

"Hey," Derek closed the door of the gym next to Stiles and reached out to touch his fingertips, "You ready?" 

Stiles swallowed dryly, "Yeah, let's go."

They had spent the morning training and Stiles was more than nervous for what they were walking towards now. It seemed like a decade since they drifted and as much as he craved it, it terrified him. There was such a strong urge to propel himself back into Derek, to curl himself around his mind and find safety in the bracket between his memories and the static that they floated in during drift. 

But what would that accomplish? Absolute uncertainty? Regrettable hope? A meaningless rendezvous built on feelings that were stilts inside a machine that left them hardly malleable by the end of each battle? Stiles swallowed hard, rubbed the pads of his thumb along the tips of the rest of his fingers and ignored the feeling of his knees giving out after each handful of steps. 

Mako was the one waiting for them when they arrived at the simulation dock.

"My wolf," she nodded to Derek, "and my fox," her arm slid over Stiles' shoulder.

Amber eyes widened and he blinked a few times, watching Derek out of the corner of his eyes as he grinned and looked at the ground. A fox. That was her little name for him, Mako's tiny blessing. 

"Fox?" Stiles tried to be as smooth as he could but his voice came out excited and curious. Heat rose to the tops of his cheeks and he cleared his throat, head tilting to the side, "Why a fox?" 

Mako smirked and shrugged a shoulder, entering a code into the keypad next to the nearly invisible door that lifted from the wall and slid open, "You're cunning- clever," she added through a nod, "you're sly and relentless. You're a fox, a very brave fox to choose to run with my wolf." 

It wasn't a choice.

That was Stiles' first thought but he glanced at Derek who was watching him carefully from under the blanket of lashes dusting against the strong arch of his brow and it reminded him that even if it hadn't been a choice- it had been. And in the end he was grateful. Far beyond grateful but those emotions were much too difficult to distinguish and grateful would have to do for now.  


Fox- that was something he could deal with.

"You ready?" Derek's voice sounded but he was already walking towards the large metal stations in front of the overhead. Mako strapped them in and Stiles winced like he did every time when the train of metal talons latched onto his spine and buried itself at the base of his skull.

The room went dark and Stiles could hear Derek breathing, could feel the tension rolling between them like waves. A tension he hadn't felt since before the debut. It almost seemed like Vegas had been some kind of time warp- a brief moment that they got themselves lost in for forty-eight hours. A tempered, monumental, breath-taking lapse in reality. Their own small breach out of the hell hole to a place where maybe they could have just met each other in a coffee shop downtown and went to dinner. In a reality where Mako's voice wasn't booming to life in his helmet, asking for their preparation.

The red letters blinking to life in front of his eyes pulled him away from the thought and the robotic voice counting down from three kept him biting at the bit to claw his way back into Derek's head.

Back into their collected space. Even if it wasn't the safety of Lionheart- it was far better than being left to deal with his own thoughts, that's what Stiles wasn't going to convince himself of, anyways.

**Left Hemisphere Initiated**

There it was. The burn. Like hot coals being rolled up between the duvets in his spine, melting into the fluid that settled along his vertebrae. It was still uncomfortable- it still hurt and Stiles had to grit his teeth and steady his shaking knees as it crawled up and settled behind his ears. The flash of white, still breathtaking, flashed and he gasped when his stomach clenched. The drift. Like Pandora’s box. Opened and over-flowing. 

"Breathe," he whispered to himself and inhaled through his nose.

**Right Hemisphere Initiated**

Stiles had learned to love the fire. He had learned to reach out for it and grip it between his fingertips. 

Derek was there, he could sense the hum of energy that was bundled at the other end of the flames waiting to stampede into his head. To meet his mind in the middle and crash against it like thunder against dark skies, like rain against asphalt.

**Neural Bridge Active in 3... 2... 1...**

Smoke. It hit him like it always did, clogged the airway from his mouth to his lungs and Stiles bit back the urge to dry heave because it was so much thicker than usual. 

"Stiles," Derek's voice was quiet, a hum threaded through a gust of air that sent the ash tumbling away, revealing the reel of memories hiding behind it. He recognized some of them, Derek's school, his first date, his mother reading to him next to a small red brick fire place, the taste of peppermint hot chocolate and then the taste of whiskey sharp and tangible on his tongue. 

The beta pushed through, continued to breathe and shoved himself past the swarming memories, the voices, the scents and dainty touches. Stiles tried not to fall into any memories but he couldn't help it, not when it was Oregon's beautiful trees and soft rain against his cheeks, cold, soothing and nearly silent. It smelt like oak and earth, like clean asphalt and pine needles. Stiles inhaled and for once he really did consider staying there, right where Derek had been standing, in the middle of the woods with his face turned towards the sky.

But something tugged on his thoughts, beckoned him closer, and before Stiles knew it he was toppling into a mess of white sheets and warm breath. Into their shared memories where he could see himself trying to breathe, eye brows knitted together, jaw slacked and he could feel what his co-pilot had felt.

The pain from Stiles' nails down his shoulder blades. The nervous excitement. The disbelief.

It was so strange to see himself. To see his own body, his own face in something other than a reflection. It was oddly different, a perspective he still hadn't quite come to understand.

"Rangers," Mako's voice pushed into the fog and Stiles blinked, focused on something other than the memory he had found himself in, the memory they both unwillingly pulled away from, "are we ready?"

Stiles could feel Derek surging into the deepest parts of him and god, had he missed this.

Green eyes stared at him from across the deck and Stiles nodded, "We're ready."

Derek said nothing until after the simulation was complete and Stiles had to steady himself against the pillar when he stepped out of the metal clamps. No matter how many times they did this it was always strange to come back, to process it, to swallow it. Everything seemed blurry, it seemed like his ears were clogged and the room was muffled. 

Maybe that was because he didn't have his eyes open.

Maybe it was because he couldn't feel Derek's hands on either side of his face.

Maybe it was because he didn't want to deal with the back-lash, with his own memories, with Derek's.

"Stiles!" his co-pilot's voice was far away but when Stiles' eyelids cracked he could see the outline of Derek's face inches from his own, "Come on, come back." 

It took a minute, more than a minute for Stiles to inhale a shaky breath, for him to lean his weight into the alpha who took it easily and mumbled about water and dehydration, about having too much on his plate. Stiles disagreed. It wasn't that there was too much on his plate it was that he couldn't even find his plate to begin with.

"I'm fine," Stiles breathed and opened his eyes to look at Derek who took the opportunity to slide his glasses back up onto the brim of Stiles' nose.

"Yeah, sure, me too," the sarcasm dripping from Derek's words caused a smile to pull at the edges of his lips.

At least he wasn't alone in their denial.

\------------------------------

Stiles woke up to Derek sitting on the edge of his bed. The silence was staggering and he tried to breathe, to close himself up when the alpha turned his gaze towards him and heaved a sigh. 

"You okay?" Derek's voice sounded so far away and it hurt. It hurt worse than Stiles wanted it to.

Calloused fingertips brushed across Stiles' arm when he nodded, "Yeah, big guy, I'm good."

"I don't-" the alpha growled and turned his eyes to the floor, "I never wanted to force anything-"

"You didn't," Stiles flexed beneath his touch and it took a minute to adjust, to pull himself out from under the comforter and to stand tall in front of his co-pilot who simply stayed seated with his head hung. He looked pensive, concerned, like Stiles had driven something into his core that he had tried to carve out. It caused the beta's stomach to flip and twist, enticed every nerve in his body to react in a way that Stiles couldn't quite put a finger on.

Sleep still draped itself heavy on his mind but Stiles reached out and placed a hand on the back of Derek's neck. Warm. 

"I know this is weird-"

"It isn't," Stiles interjected again, pushed forward and sighed when Derek let out of puff of air as his back hit the mattress. It was easy, to crawl over the firm body beneath him, to run his hands like ice cubes under the thin tank-top the veteran ranger was wearing, "that's what scares me."

The alpha swallowed painfully and closed his eyes when Stiles kissed him.

Stiles didn't know why he was kissing him, why he was trailing his fingertips up the inside of Derek's arm or why it felt so much more comforting to breathe in the air that Derek was exhaling rather than the oxygen anywhere else.

"Me too," he mumbled against the pout of Stiles' mouth.

And it occurred to him slowly, like a wave rolling forward to the shore and then suddenly crashing against the sand, that Stiles did know. He did know why his cheeks were flushed and his hands found purchase tangled between Derek's fingertips held tight above his head. He knew why life seemed so incredibly unworthy now, why things seemed to be painted in shades of muted violets and deep burgundy’s. He understood the furious need to be a part of Derek rather than just next to him.  


The beta trembled and Derek held on to him.

Headspace- an abstract, visceral, multi-dimensional communication found in drift and only in drift had seemed to be the explanation since he first laid eyes on him. Since Derek first broke into his atmosphere. 

Stiles didn't know when Derek had flipped them, didn't realize it until he was craning his neck and the back of his head was nestled into the comforter.

Derek was a ghost inside of Stiles, moving and flooding and touching at the most unexpected moments. The back-lash, the dreams, the emotions- it all made sense. He had read about it in an article written by Dr. Caitlin Lightcap, pilots are said to find that their link remains somewhat active, though muted, after they’ve disconnected from the hardware. Ghost-drifting. A manifestation of each other like marrow in their bones.

Unable to be shaken. Welded into place. Unforgivably permanent.

Stiles wanted to believe the twisting in his gut, the flutter in his stomach could be explained away by terminology that he didn't want to understand.

But Derek was far more complex than that and in the back of his mind, Stiles knew there was far more to this than just verbiage and a machine. 

Warm breath cradled the skin behind Stiles' ear.

He swore Derek was going to say something but all he heard was silence.

\------------------------------

Two days later Stiles' phone rang far too early in the morning. It was still dark outside and he cracked his eyes open, squirmed and froze when he felt a solid body pressed against his back. It was still strange to sleep next to Derek but ever since they got back from Vegas it seemed completely un-natural to sleep in a separate room than him. Even if it was something he needed to get used to, it wasn't something he was ashamed of enjoying, because he certainly did enjoy it. 

"What the fuck," Derek groaned, arm falling over Stiles' back when the beta reached across the bed and fumbled on the night stand to grab the noisy devise. He swatted once and then twice before finally squirming away from the alpha who hissed and scooted after him, pushing the rough stubble on his cheek into Stiles' side.

"Would you-" Stiles laughed tiredly, "stop it, just," he rolled his eyes when he felt Derek smile, "it's five in the morning this is probably important- Hel- Hello?" he flopped back down into the sheets with the phone pressed to his ear as his co-pilot wrapped himself back around his bare chest.

Newt's voice was shrill on the other end of the line and Stiles winced, jerking the phone away before he hissed and mumbled for the scientist to slow down. It was a valiant effort but there was nothing that was going to calm Newt down and Stiles opted for the second to best option, "Where's Lydia? Put her- yes, fuck, just- oh my fucking god, here," Stiles held the phone out to Derek.

"Take it," Stiles seethed, shaking it in the alpha's face who craned his neck and pulled his teeth back in a mock snarl, shaking his head back and forth.

"Der! Take it!" 

Derek snatched it from him and rolled his eyes, "What."

Stiles' head was swimming and he sighed when he felt a warm palm press into his side and pull him into Derek's chest. A fleeting surge of nerves made an appearance for a moment and then subsided, which made it much easier for Stiles to curl himself back into the heat of the veteran’s bare torso and close his eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. Derek always smelt like expensive cologne and spicy body wash, always felt smooth and unmovable when they slept together. 

"What..." Derek's voice was softer this time and Stiles' lids cracked, slivers of honey turning up in a hazy attempt to question the situation, to ask for silent permission to go back to sleep because that was all that was on his mind at the moment. He wanted to believe it wasn't anything important, that is was simply Newton's research-drunk rambling and lack of courtesy when it came to time-keeping. "We'll be right there," Derek tapped Stiles on the arm repeatedly until the beta was sitting up and scratching lazily at the back of his head.

The phone was discarded and Derek was swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Wha... Der, I'm literally still asleep, what is-"

"We have to get to the lab, everyone's on their way."

Stiles wanted to tell himself that it was the tone in Derek's voice that jolted him and not the view of his bare body walking towards the bathroom.

"Oh, okay, can you fill me in here, I mean- I uh, I'm a little," he tried to feign a laugh, "in the dark-"

"He found something," his co-pilot called from the bathroom, a tooth brush jammed into the side of his cheek, "made some kind of development with the Kaiju. If it's important enough for him to wake Herc up before seven then it's important enough for us to get down there, so get dressed."

It was hard to hesitate after that so instead of trying to find a shirt, Stiles slid the brown leather jacket on and zipped it up half-way, stepped into a pair of maroon pants and kicked on his boots which he hardly managed to lace up before Derek was hauling him by his arm towards the door. 

\------------------------------

"Why the fuck am I awake," Herc's voice was rough and full of rasp, "and why aren't you two wearing pants? Look at 'em, Raleigh? Couldn't you 'ave picked another set of brothers to pilot for Germany?" 

The twins swatted each other and rambled in German, seated on two stools on one side of the laboratory. Herc was with Chris and Raleigh, Mako walked in holding two mugs of coffee and leaned into Becket's chest when she handed one to him. 

Scott was there with Allison, Isaac with Peter and Lydia. Boyd and Erica walked in only moments after Derek and Stiles' arrival. They all seemed to be as confused as Stiles had been before they left, even Lydia, who surprisingly enough had her shoulder propped against Isaac's arm, hair tied back in a bun, sweatpants hanging low on her hips with a college sweatshirt thrown over her upper half.

"Hermann!" Newt came sliding out from behind an open door next to one of the large tubes attached to the wall, "Bring my tablet and-"

"Oh, shut up! I'm coming, you and your ramblings, always with the ramblings, can't you just be quiet for one minute!" Hermann Gottlieb wobbled out and swung a long black cane towards his partner who ducked and rose back up like it was a completely normal act. Stiles rose a brow and glanced to Derek but his co-pilot was shaking his head and leaned into the side of Scott's chair.

"I wasn't rambling, you asshat, just- I need my tablet and can you-"

"How can you possibly expect me to know where your tablet is? I have been busy trying to understand how we are going to defeat a species that just so happens to have figured out how to harness our only weapon!"

Herc's eyes rose, Chris glanced to Raleigh who patted Mako on the thigh and stood, "Gentlemen," Becket's voice was stern, "What exactly are we here for this morning-"

"The kaiju are nuclear!" Hermann tapped his cane against the floor.

Stiles didn't quite know what he heard first, whether it was Hermann's words or his own body jolting so hard that his neck cracked. His fingers curled into tight fists, hands trembled as his throat seemed to immediately go dry. He felt Derek stiffen and stand up straight. He didn't know if someone dropped their coffee mug but he could've sworn he heard something shatter. 

Nuclear.

That would change everything. 

Stiles reached up to rake his hands through his hair and scratched idly below his bottom lip before he sent a trembling finger to push his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. 

"What do you mean they're nuclear?" Chris looked to Hermann with his eyes narrowed before he glanced at the other Marshall. Herc's jaw was clenched tight, eyes downcast and settled on the cracks between the tiles on the floor.

"I have been in London for six months trying to help them with their research," Hermann breathed, "The water around the breach has been sending bodies of ocean life ashore so we did some tests. The Kaiju blue wasn't the same noxious, chemical filled substance that we've come to understand. It was... filled with radiation," he tapped his cane against a row of blackboards, "if we sent Gypsy into the breach as a nuclear weapon and successfully detonated her, which we did," he nodded and drew a line from the date of the closure to the date of K2, "then these aliens-"

"Precursors," Newton interjected.

"Excuse me, if the Precursors," Hermann hissed over his shoulder, "adapted and used our own technology to breed a new wave of Kaiju- a nuclear army of Kaiju, then I don't know exactly how we are going to deal with this. The breach must be closed, it must."

There was silence after that. Not the kind of silence that people fawned over, nor the kind where hands met and fingers intertwined or where the sound of falling rain broke through and made everything seem okay. This wasn't a happy ending and nothing was going to change that. It was the silence that made Stiles remember the sound of his mother’s voice telling him to be strong on his first day of school, the same silence he had endured weeks after the funeral when his father couldn't seem to find his own voice. It was a quiet that woke the dead, chilling and eerie and knowing. The beta's hands shook so he shoved them into the front pockets of his pants, he chewed on the inside of his cheek and tried his best to look absent minded, to look strong at best, or brave. Something, anything other than the panic that he had to keep at bay underneath the ridges of his skin.

"They evolve- we knew that. We knew that they imitated and we knew that there was a possibility but..." Herc's voice faded, "what can we do-"

"Well," Lydia handed her coffee cup to Isaac and walked forward, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "we need a plan, that's what we need. We've found a few different things; some make sense, others not so much. But..." she had her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes when a large tentacle slapped against the side of a glass tube next to her, "I need to catch up with Hermann and put our research together."

"What should we do?" Boyd was the first ranger to speak, "What do you need from us?"

Deep green eyes blinked to each of them and Lydia tried to smile at the two scientists bickering behind her, "We need your patience. Train, sleep, eat... don't let this affect your performance." 

"We don't have the time to be patient, Mrs. Whittemore," Chris stood and glanced to his daughter who was kneeling down and fiddling with the laces on her running shoes. Allison had already been up and dressed for her morning workout, which hardly surprised any of them. Lydia sighed and shook her head, "I realize that," she answered, "but if the Kaiju possess radioactive properties then perhaps we can use that information to fuse the breach once again, just give me some time-"

"We don't have time!" Herc's voice rose and Stiles almost jumped. Derek's hand brushed against the top of his leg and Stiles watched his jaw strain and clench. The tension was thick and he leaned further into his co-pilot, took comfort in the small touch of his open palm against the small of his back. 

"Well, we have nothing else!" Lydia shouted back, "This is what I can give you, Marshall, take it or leave it." Her lips were twisted into a sarcastic smile; eyebrows pulled together, mouth pursed into a thin line. 

They couldn't all break at once. 

"Herc," Raleigh set a hand on his shoulder and the Marshall shrugged it away, grumbling an apology over his temper. “Thank you, Lydia, we’ll check back in twenty-four hours. Until then everyone keep your phones close to you. I need to talk to Hale about this situation.”

Derek blinked and arched a brow but Raleigh waved a hand, “Peter,” he clarified. 

“I expect you all to keep your heads up,” Chris spoke quietly; “We’re Jaeger pilots. You’re the most dangerous thing in the world, including the fucking Kaiju, remember that.” 

Stiles didn’t know when they started walking towards the door or if he had spoken a word since they left their apartment. He didn’t know if Erica was talking to him, if Scott had his hand on his shoulder or if that was Derek’s hand, all he knew was that everything just kept getting heavier. Everything just kept going deeper. His heart was hammering against his rib cage, vibrating into his fingertips as his knees shook and he stumbled, hand shooting out to brace himself on the nearest wall. They were in the hallway outside of the East Hangar and Erica gasped when he slumped against the wall and tried to catch his breath.

“Breathe, Stiles, c’mon-“ her hand was on his shoulder, “Derek!”

Footsteps. He recognized them. Loud and steady.

“Move.” 

It was Derek’s voice.

“Stiles,” hands on his face, like always, because Derek knew how to comfort him, “it’s okay. It’s just a development, it’s-“

“We’re gonna die, Der,” he hadn’t meant to say it, the words just came stampeding out of his mouth over the crack of a sob when Stiles tried to breathe again, “I can’t save them, we can’t-“

“Shut the fuck up, kid,” the alpha’s voice hit him like a train, “and just breathe.”

His lungs felt like they were filled with leeches that drank the life out of him, clogged his airways, squirmed and writhed inside him; caused him to ache. This wasn’t what it was supposed to be. Not this. Not now. Not after he had a family here, not after he felt like he was worth something here, not when he had finally realized that perhaps he had never had anything to lose. Not his mundane career, not Brown, not his memories of Prom of the time he had spent interning for his teachers during the summer.

It was Erica and her dry wit that mattered. It was Boyd’s wisdom, Allison’s skill, Scott’s friendship. What made a difference was Isaac and his gentle hand, Lydia’s broken smile that he had watched start to heal over the past few months. It was Raleigh’s faith in him, Herc’s legacy, and Chris’s hope. 

It was the man currently coaxing him to breathe, to inhale through his nose and exhale through his mouth.

Stiles had lived twenty-four years without anything to lose until he met Derek Hale and until he started fighting for something so much bigger than himself. Until he started believing that he could change things, until he felt imaginable power within the walls of a machine and the mind of someone beautiful.

“C’mon, inhale,” Derek whispered, arms latched onto Stiles’ shoulders, “exhale.”

Stiles followed.

Stiles had always told himself he wasn’t a coward but he had never believed it until Shatterdome. He had never felt it until Derek. 

The alpha’s forehead rested against Stiles’ and he breathed with him, slow and steady. 

“We aren’t going to die,” jungle eyes opened to peer at him and Stiles felt his stomach flip.

“What are we gonna do?” Stiles didn’t want to sound weak.

The alpha’s lips pursed and he moved a hand down to grip at Stiles’ hip, pushing him to stand up straight.

“We’re going to kill them,” Derek mumbled against his cheekbone, “all of them.”

\------------------------------

Notes:

OHMYGOD this chapter took me forever and I'm so sorry :[ it's really short and a bit of a filler but I do hope you guys enjoy it. I'm not very happy with it but I've been in such a rut and so blocked I just had to get SOMETHING out for you guys to read and something to spark life back into this fic. So, yeah, I do apologize for the quality and the length of this chapter but at least I'm back haha 

The next chapter should be up shortly since I have the ball rolling again :D

thank you to everyone that's stuck with me! 

come chit chat on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter Eleven

“War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”  
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers

Nuclear weaponry had always been the last resort, the heart-stopping blow, the K.O. It had been finality in times when the clock seemed to just keep ticking, when pride stepped in front of humility, when the idea of being revered as a god bypassed humanity. It was the peace after disaster, the silence that cradled shock and now it seemed that fate had deemed it necessary to teach the human race a lesson.

That perhaps humility would have been a better option. 

No one thought that the first Nuclear bomb would cause the destruction it did. No one thought humans were capable of harnessing something so powerful, so ultimate; and no one thought that it would ever fall into the hands of an enemy as powerful as the Precursors. 

Stiles wondered as he sat with his back against the head board of his bed, if they had ever stumbled across a race like the humans before. If any others had put up a fight and lost- tumbled to their knees and accepted defeat. Laid down. Died. His fingertips trembled and he bit down on his bottom lip, feet shifting to pull his knees up against his chest. A paperback book was smashed between his thighs and chest, some old classic that Derek had let him borrow. 

If the Precursors had their hands on nuclear technology then what exactly would that mean for Earth? For him, for his father, for Erica, for Danny, for every single person that meant anything to him? What would happen when he died? What kind of life did he leave for them? Lives hidden under ground until the Kaiju finally dug them up and snuffed them out?

Was that his future? Was that their future?

Stiles swallowed and his saliva was dry against his tongue, his throat clenched and seared, eyes burned. There was so much inside of him that wanted to embrace the fear, wanted to run, to give up, to roll over on his back and bear his belly to the Kaiju. So much of Stiles wanted nothing more than defeat so that maybe it could be over and he wouldn't have to worry about going to sleep at night with the silent prayer to whatever god he didn't believe in to promise him another early morning training session with Allison, coffee in the kitchen with Derek, a phone call from his father.

Death might be easier than the idea that one morning he might not wake up.

And Stiles had reminded himself since the meeting in the lab three days ago that what he was feeling was completely natural. "I'm not a coward," he whispered softly to himself, opening the book to shove his nose in the crease and inhale. There was something about a book- a real book, old paper, pages torn and worn with love. He could smell the ink, the dust, a little hint of Derek's cologne. 

"What are you doing?" the alpha leaned against the frame of his doorway, arms folded across his chest with his head tilted to the side, "Are you smelling my book?"

"I like the smell of books," Stiles admitted through the flick of a brow and a forced smile, "I always have. Libraries, book stores, old books, new books, it's just comforting ya know? After we upgraded to tablets and then holograms it just- the smell of a book always reminds me that things used to be normal."

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes, "Normal?" 

"Before K-Day," Stiles shrugged, "did we need to go train or-"

"No, not for a few hours but I was making lunch. Any preference?" the veteran always wore so many expressions at once, between calm and angry or intrigued and annoyed. His eyebrows spoke words that he chose not to speak; they pulled together or were pushed up high on his forehead. Sometimes he would grin when he was feeling playful, his tongue would dart out and wet his bottom lip or he would flex his fingers out and stretch them once, twice, sometimes three times. Derek Hale was full of tiny mannerisms, beautiful little quirks that Stiles missed during drift. It was like light that slid under the door, water seeping through the cracks.

He raised a brow as he looked to Stiles, lips twisting into something of a half-smile and the beta shook his head, "You know what I like, surprise me, man." 

Derek nodded and was gone, bare feet padding against the tile as he went and Stiles was left to hug the book back into his chest and meander back into his thoughts. The thoughts that had done nothing but torture him since the meeting. The thought of Kaiju rising from the breach and coating his loved ones in radiation, exploding on the spot and sending them flying backwards, wrecking Lionheart, killing Der-

His chest heaved and Stiles gasped, his eyes squeezed shut.

No. No. No. 

The back-lash was manageable but it still hurt and it still caused his lungs to cave in on themselves. Especially the ones involving Jackson and lately- due to his ridiculous obsession with death, Stiles had seen more of Derek's late co-pilot then he needed to.  


Stiles could feel the warmth of afternoon sunlight blooming against his skin, could smell flowers and perfume, champagne and rose petals. 

Jackson had a deep voice, smooth like velvet, and he laughed with his arm slung around Derek's shoulder. 

Back-lash was like a scratch he needed to itch, a memory so blurred and condensed that it hardly made sense sometimes. Isaac had explained that it wasn't rare to experience it as more of a hazy dream than an extension of drift. It was a real memory, suppressed and hidden in a foreign mind. 

"God, it feels like it was just yesterday," Jackson's hands were warm and he squeezed Derek's shoulder. Stiles could feel it and it was sore, "I can't believe I'm a married man," Whittemore continued.

The beta half expected the mutated day-dream to end in smoke and screams, to stagger itself into death and decay like it usually did. But instead Stiles felt his fingers tighten on the edges of the book, felt his legs start to cramp and sucked in a well needed breath of air. 

Everyone told him that in time he would have mild control over it and be able to pull himself out of the surprises it seemed to throw his way; luckily they hadn't been wrong. As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Stiles had seen improvements in his own self-control and, more or less, the control of Derek's memories that lingered in his mind. Something about it still seemed so incredibly strange though, something about having someone’s life smashed into his head still made him anxious.

He breathed. Inhale. Exhale. Through the nose. Out the mouth. His eyes closed and he felt his glasses slide down to settle on the tip of his nose, hands bunched up around his knees as he set his cheek down on top of their peaks. Stiles had told himself in the beginning, when it was so humid on campus that he could hardly stand it, that the program wasn't for him.

He had told Danny, himself, hell, he even told Raleigh that he wasn't cut out for this. 

"You coming?" Derek tapped on the door and tilted his head to the side. Stiles hadn't even heard him walk down the hall but when he looked up there was something soft about the way his co-pilot looked at him- like maybe the alpha felt it too. Maybe he was just as lost in this as Stiles was. 

They didn't eat right away because when Stiles followed him into the kitchen he stopped to wrap his arms around Derek's strong waist and set himself against the alphas back. His forehead rested between his shoulder blades where ink was settled into his skin and Stiles listened to him breathe.

Derek rumbled like a machine, growled, hummed, purred and vibrated against the beta like he was made of metal, constructed of wires and circuits and bolts. But he was warm and his skin was softer than Stiles had ever imagined it to be before they fell into whatever pool it was they had fallen into.

Sometimes Stiles thought it was the pool of tears settled around Pandora's Box, other times he thought it was just salt water and messy excuses.

Hale didn't move, he just peeked over his shoulder with one of his eyebrows raised and smirked, "What're you doing back there?"

"Do you think we'll make it out of this-" Stiles swallowed when he felt his partner tense, "I mean- me and you, us, this, whatever... Do you think we'll live through this?"

It was only quiet for a moment before Derek cleared his throat, "We have to," he mumbled, fingers reaching down to brush across the top of Stiles' hand as he played lazily with the pockets of Derek's jeans. "We're all the world’s got," he added and turned, taking his time in grabbing Stiles by the waist and tugging on him, "so yes, I think we'll make it out of this. And no, I don't think we're going to die, and yes I plan on closing the breach and no, Stiles, I never expected to be doing it with you."

The sharp click of Derek's tongue almost made Stiles flinch but instead he tilted his head to the side and accepted the warm press of the ranger's mouth over his own.

They didn't talk about it after that- they ate their lunch- salad and chicken, and practiced how well they could balance against the counter top and pretended like nothing existed for a while.

\------------------------------

"We have the resources to handle any exposure to radiation but-"

"That's not what we need to prepare for, Isaac," Lydia was thumbing through a notebook and her eyes trailed along each line as a manicured finger nail dusted over each page. 

The doctor shook his head, eyes rolling, "We can't just go back down there and do what we did last time. It didn't work, Lydia. Raleigh and Mako did everything they could but-"

"Shh," her hand moved to rest on his shoulder and her eyes didn't waver from the words scribbled inside the notebook.

Isaac watched her with a kind of fondness he never knew he could muster and sighed, soft and pliant, beneath the weight of her presence. Lydia was like a tropical storm, all hot wind and humidity, rain and lightning against the sunshine. Ringlets of strawberry hair dripped over the curve of her shoulder and she shifted slightly, hiking her leg up over the other as she licked the tip of her finger and flipped to another page.

When she whispered that she was hungry Isaac offered to cook for her and she nodded. Just a nod. Silent and calm before she buried her mind back into the research settled in her lap.

There was a moment as Dr. Lahey stirred the pot of noodles and reached into the fridge that he looked up briefly and saw Lydia on his couch, her heel dangling off the edge of her foot, chin resting on her palm with her elbow against the top of her thigh. She was wearing a mauve dress and she sucked in a breath, cheeks full of air, before she sighed it out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Sometime

The silence was staggering until Lydia started humming.

Isaac smiled and realized that maybe sometime wouldn't take so long after all. The only problem was that now time wasn't something that they were privileged with anyways.

\------------------------------

Step. Dodge. Twist. Step. Jab. Kick. Twist.

"Fuck-" Stiles hissed when his back hit the ground and Derek hovered above him with one of his wrists still twisted in his hand. The beta blinked a couple of times, lips pursed into a thin line as his co-pilot inhaled breath after breath, beads of sweat decorating his brow, "again?" 

Derek nodded, hoisting him to his feet before they took a few steps back on the mat and continued to spar. This time it was Derek who fell and sucked in a gasp, wincing when Stiles' hand clenched around his throat. Jungle eyes blinked up at him and Stiles felt his heart sputter, his fingertips trembled and he bit down on the inside of his cheek. Derek's jaw clenched, eyes narrowed as he flexed underneath the beta, "Impressive," it was a growl, "but a Kaiju won't just lay there and take it-"

"Oh, is that what you're doing," Stiles scoffed, "just lying there and taking it, Derek-"

Loud footsteps echoed through the gymnasium and Raleigh's voice was full of heat when he interrupted them, "Rangers," he called, taking long strides towards the duo. Stiles sat back on his heels with his knees still bent around Derek's waist and glanced over his shoulder. Derek sat up on his elbows, head hung back to expose the length of his throat, eyes squeezed shut.

"We need you on deck. Now."

The urgency in his voice was uncommon and it sent chills down Stiles' spine that stung like ice and burned like some kind of frozen fire. He wanted to move, to rise to his feet- to the occasion, but he sat, trying to breathe, and lost his gaze somewhere between the pattern on Raleigh's leather jacket and the light behind the window of the double doors that led to the gym. His lungs were heavy, bones like lead and he couldn't seem to focus on anything except the sound of his own breath.

Then the alarms sounded and Becket lifted a finger, spinning it in a circle towards the ceiling, "On your fucking feet, rangers!" 

Derek was the one that shoved Stiles forward and hoisted him to his feet, eyes like daggers wrapped in vines, lush and overgrown and completely available to get lost in- because Stiles could go for getting lost and he wouldn't mind not being found. The alarms sounded like a game he used to play, a repetitive buzz that mimicked a deep gasp, a strangled cry, a muffled roar. It sounded like a game his mother used to play with him when he was young, one of those silly board games about pretending to be a doctor. He would reach into a fake body with tiny red tweezers and try to remove organs without touching any sides of the board but of course Stiles always shook like a leaf and every time he reached for the kidneys or the heart or the liver the buzzer would sound.

That's what the alarms at Shatterdome sounded like- minus Claudia's laughter and her sweet sighs that assured Stiles of his worth even when he was too shaky to play. 

"We need to go," Derek didn't speak like his mother, gentle and smooth, no, Derek sounded like thunder ripping away at his insides and he sounded like something alive.

Bile was burning his tonsils and the beta tried to nod but his head wouldn't move.

Go.

He hollered at his legs, begged his feet to just take a step but there was no reaction, just a sway as he was about to topple over, a choked inhale when he tried to take in a breath to keep himself from losing it. 

The alpha gripped his shoulders, "There has been a breach, Stiles, get yourself together. Now." Derek didn't hesitate to growl out the words and grit his teeth, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed as he looked to his co-pilot who seemed more interested in standing in the gymnasium and waiting for it to end than actually getting his shit together.

But Stiles was trying. He was trying harder than he ever had to make himself move.

Because there was a mishap. A breach. An unscheduled attack. A kaiju. And it had surfaced somewhere out in the Pacific. And it was swimming its way somewhere. And it was going to kill hundreds of people.

The alarms were deafening and Stiles blinked when Derek poked him in the chest with his index finger, "With me, come on," he inhaled through his nose, coaxed Stiles with his eyes, exhaled through his mouth, "Stiles, breathe with me."

Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth.

Inhale. Exhale.

When Stiles took the first step off the mat and on to the gymnasium floor it almost felt like his knees were going to buckle, like a hole might open up underneath him and just take a bite. Swallow. Drown him in earth and soot and regret. Instead, he felt cold metal against his palm as he pushed the door open, saw people walking this way and that in the hall, heard Derek quietly breathing, huffing air in and out of his mouth like it was the only thing that was keeping him steady.

Maybe it was, Stiles didn't know- and at this point it was Derek that was keeping Stiles steady and nothing else.

“Striker Eureka On Deck”

A voice echoed through the loud speaker and Stiles felt his stomach drop because this wasn't supposed to be how it felt. He wasn't supposed to feel completely dismantled; he wasn't supposed to crumble, to break, to fall. He was supposed to run to the aid of his friends who were currently suiting up, he was supposed to stride alongside Derek like nothing on this god-forsaken planet could touch him because he was a Jaeger pilot and Jaeger pilots were indestructible. 

Yet, Stiles felt like nothing but a child in a room full of frantic adults. 

They practically ran up the stairs to the control room and Derek shoved the door open where Chris Argent stood with Herc Hansen. Raleigh glanced up once before he gave a quick nod to Hale who worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

Stiles didn't know where she came from or that her hands would be as delicate as they were, but Mako snaked them over his shoulders and gave a delicate squeeze. "Are you ready, fox?" her words were quiet and he closed his eyes because he wasn't. Not in the slightest.

"Lionheart," Chris jerked his head towards the door, "go get 'em." 

It was like a bullet had lodged itself in-between the web of his fingers. Stiles tried to feign strength, tried with all his might to look like perhaps he was ready for this. For the unexpected. For the unannounced. Mako wasn't phased by his silence when they took their leave from the control room and when they made their way into the hall and towards the stair case. Neither of them spoke until Derek pulled Stiles far too roughly into a corner that met between the two levels next to the elevator. 

The alarm was still screaming its protests and Stiles was still shaking when hot lips hit his and unsteady hands clenched around his midsection. He didn't know how to kiss Derek back or how to tell him that he was terrified- but he felt himself rush forward, felt his hands try to find something, anything, to grab on to. It ended up being his partner's shoulders and he flinched when their teeth clanked together, when Derek poured himself like smoke into his lungs.

Stiles didn't open his eyes when Derek pulled away, "Look at me," the alpha instructed. Stiles did. "We're going to kill it," he spoke slowly, each word dripping off the pillow of his bottom lip like syrup, "say it."

The silence wasn't meant to happen- Stiles really did want to use his voice, he did want to respond but all he could seem to do was hold his breath.

"Say it!" Derek hissed, fingers digging into Stiles' shirt, deeper to push bruises into the flesh of his abdomen. 

"We're-" Stiles cleared his throat and tilted his chin, lips parted, "gonna kill it-"

"Again," the alpha breathed against his mouth.

"We're going to kill it," Stiles exhaled through the tremor in his voice and Derek nodded before he stepped back and turned, showing his back to the beta when he walked up the stairs.

Derek made it to the top of the first flight before Stiles was tearing at his arms and crowding him back up against the nearest wall. It was brief but it was something. The press and pull, familiar hands, the taste of coffee on Derek's tongue and the smell of salt and cologne floating from his shirt- it all seemed like it was just another extension of himself. The veteran took Stiles' lip between his teeth, rolled it there when his eyes cracked open and he drew a small circle on Stiles' lower back with the tip of his index finger.

"We're going to kill it," he repeated the words and Stiles was surprised at how sure his own voice sounded. He fell into pace with Derek, long determined strides and wondered if his father was eating dinner or watching football, he wondered if Allison and Scott had tried to catch them before they were called off to battle- he thought about Danny, about Isaac and Lydia, he even thought about the twins.

Stiles didn't flinch when the doors to the drivesuit room slid open and he didn't close his eyes when they shut behind him. 

\------------------------------

It wasn't the idea of going back out onto the field, nor was it the thought of fighting a Kaiju that had Stiles' heart pounding out of rhythm, had his chest fluttering and his fingertips trembling. It was the desperation, the fight or flight, the if-ands-buts of the situation. The sudden rush. One part of him wanted to be excited, wanted to shout and grit his teeth and know that they were about to go out and do exactly what they were trained to do. Another part of him was hiding behind his black rimmed glasses, buried in a book and wishing he could crawl underneath his bed and read until it all ended. Control his breathing. Control his heart. Control anything.

That was the catch, though, Stiles wasn't in control.

He had relied far too much on the clock and its certainty, had put himself too deep in the thought that even though the world was different, perhaps time could still be told in a way that made sense. A countdown. A preparation.

"Sir, lift your arm, please," a woman tugged on the circuitry armor, lacing it up Stiles' back as they stood on the panels in the drivesuit room. It was hurried and he could feel the panic radiating off of every officer in the room, every technician.

Stiles heard a stifled 'go' and then hands were on his back and pushing him through the metal doors and onto the deck of Lionheart's head-piece. Derek was beside him, flexing his fingers back and forth as he gripped the metal bindings in front of them. 

Green eyes peered over at Stiles and the beta looked back, nodding once when he leaned back and let the sting of steel spines sink into the hollow openings of his armor and brace him.

The red lights on the deck shined bright, the over-head blinked to life and Stiles tried not to hold his breath when the feminine voice woke over the loud speakers.

He almost choked on the relay fluid when it was drained from their helmets and he shuddered, anticipating, biting, clawing for the drift. Because the drift was comfortable. The drift was silence. And Derek was there.

"Neural bridge initiating in-" 

It was Raleigh.

"5..."

Derek watched him carefully.

"4..."

Stiles gripped the control panel to his right.

"3..."

"We can do this," Derek's voice was firm, rough and deep like something out of a dream.

"2..."

"Y-yeah," Stiles didn't mean to shake.

"1..." 

Heavy eyelids fell closed.

**Left Hemisphere Initiated**

There was something different about the way the fire crept up his spine and flooded into the back of skull. It was messy, uncoordinated, complete chaos. It didn't sink into the depth of his thoughts like it usually did, didn't pull at his memories and send him flying into the past. It just vibrated, burned, charred the flesh behind his eyes and Stiles barked out a yelp, "Derek!"

He realized shortly after he said the name of his co-pilot that what he was enduring was Derek. All of Derek. 

The alpha was so incredibly fierce in his attack on Stiles' mind that it physically hurt, stifled the memories, hushed his cries and made it nearly impossible to push back, but he did. Stiles did push back- like a tidal wave against an erupting volcano.

**Right Hemisphere Initiated**

Hale growled his name and Stiles smirked when he found Derek, pulsing against him, hand outstretched and waiting in the heat. There was no hesitation. Just hot breath, the memories of body movements and the taste of Derek's mouthwash flooding across his teeth. Fragments of their lives briefly flashed by; a hum of Talia's old lullaby, the sound of Stiles' father flipping through a newspaper- then nothing but Derek's hands and Stiles' mouth and the cold chill of shower water hitting his back.

It wasn't like it normally was. They weren't fighting to get through the fog, to break apart the static, they were the fog and they had become the static. 

Stiles flexed his hands and felt Derek beside him, straightening his back, curling his toes in the confines of his boots. Lionheart felt like she did the last time, all power, all force and Stiles couldn't help but smile when he opened his eyes and realized that neither of them had fallen into the under currents.

It was the first time that they had drifted- completely drifted, into one another with such fluid motions. Through the fear, the apprehension, the confusion, they had managed to push past the dislodging slam of memories and trap themselves inside the strength of their Jaeger.

Perhaps that's what had done it all along, maybe it was the lack of preparation, the raw intensity that allowed for such a beautiful drift.

"Jesus, rangers that was impressive-" Raleigh's breathy laugh caused Stiles' lips to curve upwards, "you reached 100 percent in less than thirty seconds. Now we have details for you."

The screen of the Conn-Pod flashed on and the image that filled it sent Stiles' head jerking back. 

"We're calling it Kanima, Striker is on route now but we- hey, Lyd-"

"Boys!" Lydia's voice interrupted their coach and Stiles could hear her unsteadiness, "it's a category five, reptilian in nature, we're thinking it's another acid-like Kaiju which means it could potentially spit or secrete radioactive toxins so try and keep your distance."

Derek cleared his throat, "Thank you, Lydia."

"Prepare for the drop," she sounded strong but both of them knew it was a facade.

Stiles' knees almost buckled when Lionheart's helmet latched into place between her shoulders and they were rotated to face the control panel. Honeycomb eyes blinked forward through his helmet and he felt his chest constrict. Allison was pressed against the glass, her palm flexing, cheeks frosted red. Her bottom lip was shaking and Scott was there beside her, worrying his lip between his teeth. Lydia clutched the dog tags around her neck with Isaac at her side, an arm wrapped gently around her waist.  


It was when Stiles saw the fear in their eyes that he felt Derek's fire.

"It's for them," the veteran mumbled, the words echoing into their shared subconscious. 

Stiles set his teeth hard and nodded.

Derek was right, it was for them.

Raleigh had his hands set on the back of a chair and Mako stood with her arms crossed over her chest. The Marshalls nodded to them, Chris is in his suit and Herc in his leather jacket. 

Stiles looked over to Derek.

It was for them. It was for him.

His thoughts were vocalized and he felt Derek's eyes on him. 

The cables were secured, the doors of the East Wing opened and Stiles breathed- in through his nose, out through his mouth, as they descended towards the Pacific.

\------------------------------

He didn't know if safe was a proper word to describe how it felt- suspended in the air by two helicopters as they flew over the ocean but it was something close. They were vibrating with energy, too much energy, bouncing off Lionheart's insides and listening to the echo of their thoughts hit each circuit board, clank against each bolt and screw. She felt raw, like an animal, feral and brutal and wild. It made Stiles want to rip something apart, made him want to destroy and build all at once.

It was primal- the feeling.

Derek tapped his fingers and stared out the panel of Lionheart's helmet, satiated in the silence of the drift and comfortable wrapped around Stiles' thoughts. 

Sties couldn't help the pull that kept aching in his chest, the anxiety pooling like acid in his stomach. He couldn't control the shake in his left ankle or the tremble that traveled into each of his knuckles. He couldn't control anything.

"Lionheart," Boyd's voice boomed into their helmets and Stiles almost flinched, "this thing is-"

His voice cut out and Stiles felt Derek strain against the metal clamps around his boots, "Boyd!" the alpha called out but there was no response. 

They heard it before they saw it.

A screech- high pitched and muffled by liquid. It was long, drawn out and rumbled off into something of a roar that had Stiles' heart beating out of his chest. It was unlike anything he had ever heard, no animal, no language, no creature made noises like that. Nothing on this planet vocalized so intensely. 

"Fuck!" it was Erica and Stiles physically squirmed in the confines of his drive suit, "keep your distance, just-"

Neither of them were blinking. They just shook, battered themselves sick as they stared forward until the sight of Striker Eureka finally came into view. There was a sigh of relief, a flood of emotion that felt like warm water sliding across Stiles' thoughts. They were still standing, fists raised, wings deployed, in front of something that Stiles was sure he had seen once or twice in his nightmares.

The cables were clipped and Lionheart was dropped into the water, knees buckling against the ocean floor. 

"You've taken severe damage," Derek breathed through gritted teeth as they shifted downwards, moving one foot, lifting one leg and slamming it back down until they were running to Striker's side. It felt like flight, like they were gliding through the air surrounded by steel and fury and complete unrelented anger. Stiles thought that perhaps that was exactly what it was- a vengeance, a grudge, that pushed them both forward towards hell. 

"We're okay," Boyd sounded wrecked and Striker straightened their back as Lionheart appeared at their side, staring into deep waters where Kanima had disappeared. Stiles thought he had got some kind of idea of it from the angle of the helicopter. It was hunched on all fours, scales, a muddled silver in color with that disgusting turquoise blue he had learned to hate. "But we can't get a heat signature and- fuck, guys, your left-"

Stiles didn't hear the rest of Boyd's words because Derek's thoughts overwhelmed him. They turned, just in time for something- its tail, to hit them dead in the chest and send them flying backwards. It hurt. It felt like someone had cracked him in the ribcage with a bull whip and Stiles hissed as his eyes squeezed shut when the waves crashed over them. Hale barked out a curse, his mind reeling around the bickering of instincts. Stiles' subconscious said kick, Derek's said punch, but they met somewhere in the middle and ended up flinging themselves forward and grabbing the Kaiju by its back right leg.

Kanima was big. Bigger than Stiles had imagined. It squirmed, kicked, hissed like a snake but sounded like something far more feline. Its teeth were sharp, clanking together when it whipped around. Six eyes. Three on each side of its head- shined that poisonous blue. Its saliva was thick, clung to its teeth when its lips curled back and gums jutted forward, dislocating from its jaw to slam shut in front of their helmet. It had a flat face, scaled and round; its body was lean with what looked like strong shoulders curved down to a razor sharp tail that was swinging dangerously slow behind it.

“Plasma canon!” Stiles didn’t know whether it was the fight in his ‘fight or flight’ or if that decision had been made by the both of them, but Stiles lifted Lionheart’s arm and shot two rounds of blistering heat into its general direction. The rumble of disdain that came from the creature reminded Stiles that Kaiju were far more capable than he thought; he was reminded that it was a warning. A warning that suddenly made him feel incredibly small because as blue noxious acid leaked from the wound decorating the center of the disturbingly human physique of Kanima, the Kaiju didn’t even flinch. It snapped its jaws once again and then Derek was shouting, eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted, when its tail came back to burry itself into their right shoulder blade. 

The pain was dizzying and Stiles tried to listen, tried to find a weakness in the vocal patterns. His hand shot out to try and grab for the Kaiju who was slithering away but he missed and they went staggering backwards, Derek clutching his shoulder as he tried to steady his breathing.

Striker shot from the side, using the six barreled missile launcher that they were so well known for. The Kaiju’s spine rippled, mouth dropping to expose a long beaded tongue saturated in blue fluid. Acid. Lydia had been right. It wasn’t a direct hit but the Kaiju did sustain damage, even so, it flew forward, all teeth and angry claws at Striker Eureka. 

“Close combat, Stiles, we have to-“ Derek flinched when they stood and started running towards the clash of scales and metal yards away. Striker punched, rolled, dodged, but it didn’t stop Kanima from sinking its teeth right into their side and the results were extreme. Whatever chemical the Kaiju sported in its jaws cut through the Jaeger like it was nothing, melted steel, disintegrated their defenses. “We have to use it- we have to, just trust me-“

Stiles was hesitant until he heard Erica start to scream. 

Every Jaeger had a weapon that reflected its pilots in some way. Gypsy Danger had the sword, Striker, the dual blades, Lionheart- the axe. 

Stiles felt it dislodge from her arm, extend and build itself out from their hands. It was heavy in their grasp, weighted by the thermal induced blades that jutted dangerously from each side of the handle. The blades were heated to cauterize the Kaiju- like every other weapon- and kept from unnecessarily spilling Kaiju blue. It was brick red with serrated blades and a knotted handle that allowed them to hold it easily, to swing it in a precise motion. Kanima was distracted by pulling Erica and Boyd’s Jaeger apart piece by piece and the noise it made when their axe was buried just below its neck would haunt Stiles for weeks. It cried- screeched, clicked its tongue against the roof of its mouth and then there was nothing. Nothing except that clicking. It didn’t make sense at first, not until Boyd was yelling and not until Derek’s panic spiked through Stiles’ mind. 

“It’s calling for help,” Stiles swallowed, dry and hot, “Raleigh! They use Morse-“ Stiles didn’t finish his sentence due to the thick tentacles wrapping themselves around Lionheart’s ankles and pulling them down into the waves. 

It was almost like Derek expected to die. 

Stiles could feel him still fighting, could feel his mind urging on, reaching for their axe, loading the mortar canons. But at the same time all the beta could see were flashes of memories, all he could hear was the muted sound of Cora- his sister, or Talia- his mother, and then his own voice and the long knobby fingers that Stiles hated about himself. The sight of his own glasses sitting on the edge of the night stand next to Derek’s old book.

“Stiles!” Derek gasped and he could hear the crunch of crumbling metal, the bend and break of Lionheart underneath the grasp of an unknown Kaiju that had broken through the breach. The revolution. The broken seal. The last stand. 

He thought briefly- maybe this was how it was supposed to be.

But then he remembered Derek’s hands and the way they traced along the bow of his spine. He remembered his father’s addiction to ice cream and whiskey- thought about his warm laugh. He reached deep for his mother, for Claudia, and for Danny and Laurie and Isaac and Lydia and Allison and Scott and-

“S-she’s hurt, guys, she’s- Erica,” Boyd was crying. The water was clear. Rows and rows of blue eyes stared through the Conn-podd and Stiles wanted to be scared. He wanted to give up. He was exhausted and he just wanted to sleep. But this was his life. This was their fight. So he looked over to Derek who was wide-eyed, chest heaving as he lifted his arm to try and fend off the newest threat that had surfaced from the depths of the Pacific.

“Mortars,” Derek rasped and Stiles nodded, closing his eyes when the two large canons fired from over their shoulders and sent the Kaiju squirming away. It was so strange, a mutation, a weak attempt at piecing together the creatures of Earth and making them into something whose sole purpose was just to destroy. Stiles wondered absently what it would be like to be born as a sentient being whose only reason to live was to exterminate. 

Something was being yelled through the deck, into their helmets, but neither Derek nor Stiles had time to make out exactly what they were saying. It was probably a warning. Raleigh had probably tried to tip them off to the explosion that greeted them when they surfaced next to Striker Eurkea. To the silence that came after they hit the water several yards back. To the pain in Stiles’ left side, his ribs, his knee cap, his head. But sometimes things happen too fast, sometimes things happen and all that’s left is the memories wrapping around an unconscious body like a blanket. 

The drift is silence.

He repeated that again and again when his eyes cracked open. It was the first time he had seen Gypsy Danger on the field and it was beautiful. “They came for us,” Derek’s voice was hoarse and Stiles could hear something muffling it- blood, probably. It is. The thought made Stiles squirm because Derek was hurt and he was only a few feet away but it was still too far. Too close and too far. Stiles couldn’t decide which.

They were lying against a sand bar, the thick glass of the Conn-Podd was cracked and Stiles tried to focus on the sight of Gypsy Danger on the edge of the horizon but it was blurry. Everything seemed a little blurry. Unfocussed. Fake. Like perhaps this was a simulation and they would open their eyes and fall to their knees on the uncomfortable linoleum floor back at Shatterdome. But the pain- the throbbing behind his left eye, the warmth cascading down the curve of his cheek, the spark of electricity in his side told Stiles that unfortunately this was real.

Derek’s labored breathing told him it was real.

“We gotta get up, Der- we gotta help them,” Stiles strained to move, he tried to lift his arm to delve into the metal bindings, into the power hidden inside Lionheart. But there was nothing. Just short-circuiting electrical wires and malfunctioning hydraulics. 

Stiles couldn’t hear Erica. He couldn’t hear Boyd. All he knew was that Derek’s heart was still beating and that he didn’t know how much longer he could stay awake.

\------------------------------

“Stiles!”

It sounded like someone was shouting to him from across a football field. Like an echo suddenly fading off into the distance, a ripple of sound making its way to him from so far away. Far enough away that Stiles still didn’t open his eyes and he didn’t bother trying to move his arms or his legs because he didn’t know if he was still locked into their Jaeger or not. He didn’t know much of anything. 

Waves crashing repeated like a soundtrack between each of his ear drums, accompanied by alarms and guns, canons and the sounds of the Kaiju. It was freshly watermarked on the inside of his skull and as Stiles finally willed himself to crack his eyes open he hissed and immediately shut them. He wasn’t inside Lionheart which made him wildly uncomfortable but apparently squirming wasn’t allowed and a strong hand came down to press his chest into the table below him. He knew that hand.

The pain wasn’t expected, though. It felt like electricity coursing through his left side, winding its way through his ribcage down into the curve of his hips and ended in something of a dull burn. Heat. The drift. It was hard to speak, to open his mouth and say anything but he tried- his lips parted and his breath shook against the cold air.

It smelt so familiar. Like antiseptic and radiation. Like oxygen and panic attacks.

The hospital. It smelt like a hospital. 

“She’s seizing.”

Isaac’s voice.

Stiles’ eyes did open when he heard Allison scream. 

“Don’t look, Stiles, no, just-“ Derek never cried. Stiles had never seen Derek cry. “Look at me, please.”

“Get her out of here!” Isaac’s voice again and then Allison was spitting and biting and yelling. Her feet made scuffling sounds against the ground and the door shut loudly behind her when whoever was deemed with the duty of dragging her out had done so.

His head felt like it had been bashed against a rock. It throbbed, ached, and his thoughts felt swollen inside his mind.

Open your mouth. Talk.

It was all he kept saying as he tried to focus on the green of his co-pilots eyes, of his hands like rod-iron holding him down against the… steel. It was a- sore hands moved down to run across the material holding him up. A surgical table.

Another voice.

“Doctor, her heartbeat is irregular- we need-“

Isaac rambled something about so many CC’s of this, so much of that.

Derek’s eyes were closed and he was shaking, hovered over Stiles with blood caked over his cheek and across his hands.

“You’re bleeding,” Stiles croaked. His throat protested speaking but he strained to clear it. 

His co-pilot shook his head and made some kind of shushing noise that irritated Stiles more than anything else.

“No-“ Derek hissed but Stiles turned his head anyways.

His lungs burned. His heart hammered from beneath broken ribs. 

Erica’s hair was splayed over the edge of the table, her arms dangled off with an IV stuck in between the crook of her elbow. She was bloody. Bruised. Isaac and Harmony crowded around her and Stiles tried to breathe when her body twitched and convulsed. 

She was dying.

Erica Reyes was dying.

Stiles didn’t know if he’d said anything, but he bucked off the table with his hand outstretched because getting to her was all that mattered. He just needed to get to her.

“No, Stiles!” Derek’s hand came back down over his chest and Stiles growled, digging blunt fingernails into the alphas wrist. “Stop, let them get her back!”

Let them get her back

The beta couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t talk. He just continued to squirm, tried to kick his feet, stretched his hand out even further- maybe if he just pushed his fingers out further.

“Doc!” Derek’s voice again.

Isaac looked over his shoulder.

He only had to take a few steps to get to them, revealing the wound in Erica’s abdomen. The hollow cave where the Kaiju blue had eaten away. Stiles trembled and he heard Derek choke back a sob.

The doctor wasn’t careful with the needle when he shoved it beneath Stiles’ ear.

Derek pulled his face into his hands, thumbs stroking across the tops of his cheeks and Stiles hated that the last thing he saw was his co-pilot’s waterlogged eyes before his vision blurred. 

“Boyd, take a step back,” Isaac’s voice started to weather and as Stiles slipped from consciousness the last thing he heard was the broken exhale of Derek trying to breathe.

\------------------------------

Notes:

Ah, another chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed reading it, the next one should be up hopefully sometime next week :] thank you for reading, please let me know what you think!

I'm over on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)

all the time 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Lydia's eyes were swollen and bloodshot as she sat on the edge of the kitchen counter in her apartment. It was late- far too late for her to be up but hell, she hadn't slept in days so what was a another twelve hours going to hurt in the end? Isaac was still on base patching up the wounded pilots and Newton was resting on the cot in the back of the lab as Hermann conducted a few more experiments with the radio-toxicity of the Kaiju tissue. 

They hadn't expected it. None of them had.

She had been in the control room watching with the rest of them when Newt came running into the room spouting his theories about Kamikaze Kaiju. They should have listened. They really should have.

Because moments after his fumbled words graced the overly tense air the room full of people watched the screen go white, heard the speakers crack into silence and watched Raleigh look at Mako like she was the only one in the room who ever mattered to begin with. No one tried to stop them when they ran to the drivesuit room, when Gypsy Danger roared to life and they were flown out to the Pacific. No one said anything at all.

Scott held Allison up when her knees had buckled. Isaac pressed a kiss against Lydia's hair before he was out to prepare the clinic for the arrival of the rangers. She hadn't tried to stop him when he did, she had just stood, clipboard clutched against her chest, mouth agape, and wondered who was coming back alive.

They all had. 

Gypsy Danger and Titan Omega took care of the last Kaiju, an un-named multi-limbed creature that had been called to battle after Kanima was severely injured. That injury is what led to its self-detonation- something none of them had ever considered. Newton had seen it coming, though, from the radioactive samples he had in the lab. Apparently it was a discovery even he had hoped wouldn't come to being true. 

Kanima had self-destructed. It had released the toxins bundled up beneath those ugly scales, riddled with radiation and exploded like a bomb. Like the bomb they sent down into the breach all those years ago.

The Precursors had learned and god, they had learned well.

The wine glass clasped between Lydia's fingertips shattered against the far wall and her head fell heavy into shaking hands.

At least they had all come back alive, she reminded herself silently. It was keeping them alive that was the problem. Erica had a gaping hole just below her belly button that would prevent her from ever having children, if she lived through this. Boyd had fractured his collar bone, Derek bruised a lung and broke a couple fingers. Stiles broke three ribs, fractured his hip, smashed his head against something and dislocated his shoulder. 

The boys would heal but Erica-

Lydia's feet hit the tiles in her kitchen and she slapped the tears off her face as she walked into the bedroom. It was dark and she sat down in front of the vanity, teeth set dangerously hard as she peered at the reflection looking back at her. 

Dark trails of mascara bruised her cheeks, her lipstick was gone, hair was tussled this way and that. She snatched a wipe from next to her perfume and smoothed it over her skin, removing the mask of old ruined makeup to reveal milky white skin dotted with freckles. Her lips were pale and she licked over them after gliding chap stick across the pout of her mouth, brushed roughly through long red locks and tied her hair back into a tight bun. 

It was like looking at a ghost.

Deep mossy eyes blinked before she glanced down, fingers rubbing across the cold metal decorating her left hand on the second to last finger.

It clanked against the small bowl filled with the rest of her jewlery and Lydia's eyes welled with tears when she stared down at her naked hand, clenching and unclenching her fist. It would have hurt if she didn't have more to worry about, it would have felt like swallowing burning coals, like sliding a scalpel through the web of her fingers. But she had more to do. She had purpose far beyond that ring and the life she had been graced with.

She had more.

Lydia Martin's heels clicked down the hall as she grabbed her coat off the back of the couch and slammed the door shut behind her when she headed back to the lab. 

\------------------------------

"He's going to be fine, Derek," Raleigh's words were clear and firm as he watched the alpha lean against the wall outside the infirmary, large hands clenched around a coffee mug far too tightly. 

The ranger’s gaze was pointed at the floor, a bruise blooming around his right eye, a small cut just below it. His arm was wrapped in a bandage where a shard of metal had imbedded itself just above his wrist and he inhaled deep, tried to convince himself to breathe and shook his head.

"Not if she dies-"

"Erica is going to wake up in that bed next to her co-pilot and she's going to heal up good as new," his mentor snapped, clear eyes staring dangerously in Hale's direction, "and we're going to figure this shit out."

Derek was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug and shifting back and forth. He cleared his throat, looked one way and then another, tapped his fingers against the ceramic cup and huffed, once, twice, "Thank you," the veteran mumbled, "you didn't have to come for us, you and Mako-"

"Shut the fuck up, Hale," Raleigh spat, taking a deliberate step forward before he reached to set his hand securely on the groove of Derek's shoulder, "of course we did. God, of course we had to come for you- Mako and I, we would never just leave you."

Large green eyes blinked at the ground before the alpha nodded and lifted his cup to the curve of his lips, ignoring the foul presence of fear and turmoil and so much more that tainted the air around them. He wanted to believe that Raleigh was right- wanted more than anything to give in to the idea that Erica would wake up with something witty rolling off the tip of her tongue and life in her eyes. He wanted it to be right. Derek wanted it to be exactly how it always played out in movies and books. Some kind of relief. A little bit of a happy ending. 

But happy endings weren't something that they had been graced with the past ten years and fairytales weren't told in the way they used to be. The reality was the Kaiju and life was just a prequel to death- they'd learned that over and over again as it seemed.

A gasp from behind the door startled Derek out of his thoughts along with an uncommonly elevated heart rate. His chest burned, throat tightened and when he braced himself against the wall with the flat of his hand Raleigh reached out to catch him. 

"Whoa, Hale, looks like Stiles is waking up," Becket nodded when Derek shot a questioning glance in his direction, "it’s called ghost drifting, happens sometimes."

Derek couldn't help but agree because the anxiety building in his stomach was not his own and the nervousness making its way into the tips of his fingertips felt foreign.

He nearly tripped over himself when he pushed the door open and stepped inside to see Stiles straining against the oxygen mask draped across his face. He was whining, eyes wide and glassy in the brightly lit room.

"Fuck, get it off him," Derek hissed.

Stiles tried to breathe.

Inhale. Exhale.

But every breath left mist against his nose and made his lips warm and wet. It was too much. Suffocation. Lack of air. Trapped.

"He's claustrophobic, Isaac-" Derek reached down and Stiles thrashed, pawing at the mask on his face weakly before his co-pilot finally lifted it off so that the beta could suck in a well-deserved breath of fresh air. 

It hurt- the breath hurt. It felt like shards of ice splintering in the confines of his chest, like an avalanche down his esophagus. Stiles blinked repeatedly as Isaac scooted in past Derek and checked the ranger’s vitals, nodding and humming as he did. The younger pilot's mind was hazy, a thick fog poured over his thoughts and he absently chewed on his lip, only registering the pain when he bit down to the point of numbness. It was an abstract feeling and the only thing Stiles could quite compare it to was the memories that Derek had shared with him in drift. 

It was like desperation weaved through slumber, an exhaustion so deep it settled into panic. 

"Hey," Derek soothed, voice soft, soft enough to make Stiles uncomfortable, "how're you feeling?"

Stiles looked to the right, gaze lifting to blink at Raleigh who arched a brow and offered a lopsided grin, then to the left where he saw another bed and Boyd asleep in a chair. A curtain was covering his view of Erica but he knew it was her. He just knew.

His throat hurt and he had no recollection of the last time he had spoken but he figured when he tried to his vocal cords would definitely protest. Stiles cleared his throat anyways, wincing as he did, "My chest hurts," he croaked, reaching with one hand to touch just below his sternum, "jesus- fuck," he bit down on his lip when he felt pain jolt through his shoulder.

Derek hissed at him and snapped his teeth together, eyebrows drawn tight, "Stop moving," he growled, "you broke three ribs. And you fucked up your collar bone." 

Stiles blinked like he was waiting for more because realistically he was.

"And you had a concussion." 

Stiles tried to move and yelped, eyes brimming with tears, hands shaking when he reached down to splay a hand over his abdomen. Derek's eyes closed.

"And you fractured your pelvis..." 

That was a lot. A hell of a lot more than he had expected to wake up to- though, in all honesty, Stiles hadn't thought he was going to wake up in the first place. For the most part he hadn't even realized he had been asleep. The only thing that ever jerked him back into the realism of the situation was Derek's memories and the way they flashed every so often in his medicated slumber.

"How long until-" Stiles winced and whined when he tried to sit up, giving up and falling back with an exasperated huff, "how long until I can get up?"

A small laugh filled the room and Isaac shook his head, "You'll be in that bed for another two days until we can get you to the deck where we have the healing center, right now moving you would do more damage than it would good so sit back and relax."

"I'm hungry," he whimpered, lifting a hand to run through his hair and wrinkling his nose at how dirty it was, "and I want a shower. Can't I just get in a wheel chair and-"

"Your ribs are broken, Stiles, you can't sit up. Your pelvis is fractured in two places; your best bet is to lie back and relax for a couple days. I'll send Harmony out to get you something to eat, alright?"

Stiles huffed another sigh and nodded, complying with the doctor for now and glancing up to Derek who was playing nervously with his fingers and shifting back and forth on the soles of his feet. He looked lost, like something had been draining the life out of him for the past few days and hadn't let him sleep. The alpha had bags under his eyes, a bandage across his face and splints holding a few of his fingers together.

"Oh my god," Stiles almost choked on his words, "Der, are you okay?" The ranger jerked himself forward to sit up and immediately regretted such abrupt movement, "I haven't even fucking asked, are you alright? What happened to you, did you get hurt- is, what... Your eye, your eye's messed up and-"

"I'm fine," Hale mumbled bitterly, laying a hand down on Stiles chest to push him gently back down onto the bed, "just a little banged up." 

The beta felt his insides twist, his stomach clenched and he closed his eyes, hurling the idea of crying to the far back of his mind. Derek had been hurt. Really fucking hurt and Stiles had been lying in a bed for god, how long had it been?

"How long have I been asleep?"

Raleigh sighed, "Four days," he offered, nodding towards the door and lifting up his vibrating cell phone before he took his leave. 

"Four fucking days, Derek? You've been dealing with all of this for four days? Why didn't you wake me up, why the fuck didn't you-"

Derek's teeth ground down against one another, "You needed rest, you still need to rest, Stiles. I can handle all of this, it's fine, I'm fine-"

"You're lying," Stiles hissed, "You can't handle this and you're not fine and-"

"I can," Derek bit, "and I am handling this." 

It was hard to look at him, to stare at the person who shared every bit of pain that Stiles had endured, to know that Derek knew- he knew the fear, the dismissal. He heard his thoughts- the overwhelming need to run, the desperation of release, the panic. 

Derek had stepped into hell right beside Stiles and it felt like someone had shoved something blunt between the disks in his back and twisted. It felt like anger, like anger and thankfulness and helplessness.

Caramel eyes turned to glance at the curtain covering Erica from his view and he tried to keep himself composed but his eyes burned and his throat clenched and he felt Derek's hand resting on his cheek before any tears could fall.

A soft sigh fluttered over Derek's bottom lip, "She'll be okay," he tried to lie but his voice betrayed him and Stiles could hear it, the shake, the uncertainty. 

When Stiles didn't answer he heard Derek's jeans shuffling and the pop of his right knee when he knelt down beside his bed, "Stiles," the alpha breathed, "look at me."

Glassy eyes turned to watch him and Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, nostrils flaring when Derek opened his mouth to speak but then stopped and shook his head. The alpha's hand felt heavy against his face but Stiles leaned into it and shifted to run his fingers down the curve of Derek's wrist.

"I didn't know-" Derek looked away, sucking in a sharp breath, "we didn't know if you'd make it, Stiles. I thought-"

"Shut up," Stiles mumbled, eyes blinking down to the floor, "I'm fine, I was fine the whole time-"

"No," Derek snapped, "you weren't, I felt you, I felt it... You- Stiles, you could have died, you almost died, do you not get that? I am handling all of this but you can't just expect me not to have my focus on you right now."

Derek's voice was firm and he let his fingertips drip just below Stiles' chin, shy of his collar bone, and then away and into his pocket to fish out his phone.

There wasn't much Stiles could say. Nothing, really. Derek was worried, that was apparent, and Stiles was worried about Derek but all the beta could wrap his thoughts around was the blonde woman in the bed across the room and the fact that the Kaiju were now self-destructing like fucking atomic bombs. Everything had changed. Everything.

"I don't need you to be concerned about me," Stiles bit down on each word, "I need you to focus on Erica, what can we-"

Derek's movement was quick, he snapped upright and huffed, pushed an aggravated breath through his nose and glared down at Stiles, "Erica is being taken care of, she is not my fucking main-"

"She needs to be! Why can't you just do this for me, I'm fine, I will be fine, Der-"

"Because I'm not in love with Erica, Stiles!"

Stiles had never really felt silence before. He'd been in the midst of it, understood it, reveled in it, but he had never felt it. Not until Derek's eyes bore into him for a short moment before they drifted down to the ratty converse strapped to his feet, not until he heard the soft breath that Derek exhaled- like it was a secret, an emotion he hadn't shared with Stiles before. It was the silence that sounded like a distant vibration, felt like soft grass tickling the inside of his palm. It was everything that Stiles didn't have time to dissect- everything that neither of them had time to pick apart.

When Derek's phone started ringing Stiles almost looked relieved but he watched the alpha with sincerity in his eyes as something he didn't quite understand curled itself behind his ribcage.

Hale looked at his phone and then to his co-pilot, lips pursed into a thin line before he lifted it to his ear and turned on his heels to walk out of the room.

"Better be good news, McCall."

Stiles was chilled by the ice in his voice and turned his gaze once again to Erica, focused on the quiet beeping of her heart monitor and tried not to think about anything. 

Not a damn thing.

\------------------------------

"Okay," Scott pointed to the left panel of Lionheart's chest piece, "all we have left to repair are the mortar canons and your coolants in the mid-cavity center," he gestured to the middle of the Jaeger's chest and nodded to Derek who had his head tilted, eyes transfixed on the mech hanging lifelessly on large cables in the hangar.

"Good," the alpha nodded and reached over to squeeze Scott's shoulder, "she'll be ready in a few days then?" 

Scott shrugged, "Yeah, but Stiles won't be ready for combat for at least another week after we get him out of the restoration pod."

"It'll put him at ease to see Lionheart combat ready," Derek sighed, shrugging one shoulder, "he's already itching to get out of that bed so..."

The mechanic's lips twisted and he leaned over to bump his shoulder against Derek's, swaying back and forth until the alpha's mouth twitched upwards.

Heavy footsteps echoed around them, the buzz of soldering tools and the crank of levers causing a commotion in the busy building. Workers seemed frazzled, eyes like gnats flicking this way and that until they seemed to just fall into whatever work was thrown at them. It was uneasy. Desperate. A time that reminded Derek of the first few months he had joined the program. The unrest in the air was tangible and he felt tangled in the emotions of those around him; wrapped up tight and secure by insecurity itself. 

"Peter had to fly back to California, right? Do some press conferences and such?" Scott asked, crouching down to tie his shoe while Derek continued to watch the frantic mechanics around him try to get things back in order.

The alpha nodded, "Yeah, he tried to get Herc to go but he wouldn't leave Erica."

Scott swallowed.

Derek's eyelashes fanned over his eyes as he looked down at the linoleum floor.

Everything seemed so backwards.

Life was just out of order.

"Thanks for getting her back in shape so quick, Scott," Derek cleared his throat.

Deep brown eyes lingered over the tall, fairly broken man beside him and Scott didn't have a chance to tell him it was no problem before Derek was walking away, hands shoved deep in the confines of his pockets.

\------------------------------

There was nothing like bright white walls and an uncomfortable bed to look forward to in the hours that Stiles was awake. He played with the dials on his monitors until Harmony swatted his hands away and warned him not to play with them or they'd have to keep him sedated. He rolled his eyes and growled back at her with some sarcastic retort about wanting green tea and asking if he could get up and walk around.

Her answer was always no, but moments later she would return with a tray, a book, a steaming cup and a smile.

Stiles listened to Boyd pray, which was interesting because he had never taken the man for someone who believed in god. Perhaps that was just Stiles reflecting himself into the people he had come to love, hell, he didn't know. But he listened and he cried quietly into his pillow every time the man got down on his knees at the foot of Erica's bed and choked on the words.

"Now I lay me down to sleep," Boyd hummed, "to pray the Lord my soul to keep," Stiles closed his eyes at this point because he could hear Boyd's voice begin to falter, "and if I should die before I wake," the beta swallowed from across the room and fisted his hands in the scratchy sheets, "I pray the Lord my soul to take." 

It was always the same. A prayer and then soft pleads, gentle apologies, murmured wishes. 

"Please, God," Boyd choked one night, "give her back to me. Bring her back to me." 

Stiles didn't want to see his friend clutch at a limp hand, didn't want to acknowledge his ragged water-logged breathing, and most certainly did not want to close his own eyes and ask god- or whoever it was that was watching them try and claw their way out of this mess, to open Erica's eyes.

But he did.

Stiles bit down on his lip and he thought of his mother and the silent prayer he chanted over her bed every night in his youth just before he said it again and again for Erica Reyes. 

\------------------------------

The next day Derek found Allison in the gymnasium, her fists bare and raw as they slammed against the punching bag in the far corner of the large room. It was empty- by her order, he guessed, and as the alpha walked up behind the combat specialist, she said nothing, did nothing, just continued to suck in even breaths and riddle the bag with jabs of her arms.

"Hey," Derek's voice was soft as he reached out, grabbing her shoulder.

Allison turned, eyes wide before she pushed him, palms landing against his chest to send him stumbling backwards. 

It was quiet after that. Allison's eyes trailed over the shocked expression on her friends face down to his chest and then to his feet before she turned and kicked the bag, shooting forward to continue striking it again.

The alpha hissed, "Allison, you're gonna hurt yourself, stop," he reached forward again but she twirled, braided hair whipping over her shoulder when she slapped his hand away and curved her arm, fist aimed for Derek's jaw.

He took a step back.

Allison took one forward, jabbing at him again only to be deflected by the side of his hand. The woman growled and Derek's eyes narrowed when she kicked at his ankle which he avoided and huffed, aiming another punch at his face.

Hale caught her hand, spun her around and caged his arms around her shoulders, an embrace that she desperatly tried to squirm away from. Allison Argent spat and kicked and cursed, writhed and bit and cried. Cried and cried and cried.

"Ally... Jesus, Allison," Derek sighed into her hair when she choked on a sob, features crumbling as she sagged against him and lost the will to keep her knees locked. He sank her down, laid her in his lap and stroked his hand across her cheeks when she wept, mumbling everything that all of them had been feeling for close to a week. Things that Derek had tried not to think about, things that had changed the fate of man kind to something that could be unobtainable. 

She clutched at his wrists, shook and sniffled, "I can't lose her too," Allison's voice cracked, "Derek, she can't die, I can't- we can't lose her. Erica can't die, she can't, she can't-"

Derek closed his eyes.

He nodded against the top of her head, tried to whisper that everything was going to be okay but the words just refused to surface.

So, Derek convinced himself to breathe and rocked Allison against his chest in the empty gymnasium. 

\------------------------------

Lydia's bare feet padded across the smooth floor of the lab and Newt scoffed at her as she reached across him to grab a note book, "That's completely unsanitary," he pointed at her neatly painted toenails and the red-head answered with an arch of her brow and the lift of her leg as she pushed her foot at his face.

"Ew, god, get away," the eccentric scientist pushed her playfully until she flopped into a chair and wheeled herself back to the small counter space she had- over flowing with research, books, papers, folders and vials. 

The woman took a moment to tie her hair back before she opened the notebook and flicked through each page, nodding a few times, folding the edge of certain pages down and continuing on to the next. She hadn't had time to grieve, to wonder, to visit. 

Lydia hadn't bothered to entertain the idea of Erica's death due to the fact that thinking about it could very well have driven her over the edge and back into a darkness she had been fighting for some time to destroy.

So she dove into her work, buried herself in theories and research, created a machine out of her mind and tried to piece together anything that could help them devise a plan to close the breach. To end the war- even if for a short time.

Hermann did the same, he contacted the other regions and bases, connected with the field specialists there and obtained as much information as he could on whatever it was he could get his hands on. There wasn't much- just empty skeletal ideas that led to dead ends and to the same game plan they played out all those years ago. Drop a nuclear Kaiju into the breach and let it detonate, hopefully wiping out the Precursors or deterring them from returning. The knowledge that it was a copy-cat plan didn't set well with any of the three scientists at Shatterdome, nor did it sit well with their Marshalls. 

It just didn't seem full-proof, not that any plan they had was going to be an iron locked success but they needed something that they could at least believe in. Going backwards, rewinding and playing out the past wasn't something anyone would have faith in.  


It was in the afternoon that Newton blurted the words out so non-chalantely that Lydia choked on her skinny vanilla latte. 

"I can drift. I can do it, let me drift with the Kaiju again-"

"Are you a mad man!" Hermann interrupted, slamming his cane repeatedly into Newt's shins, "You almost died the first time and the second time was still terrible, absolutely not!" 

A piece of hair dripped over Lydia's shoulder and she could hear the clock tick once, twice, a third time. Wide green eyes blinked down at the lined paper on the notebook settled in her lap and she picked nervously at her thumb nail as the idea circulated itself in her mind. The Kaiju share a hive mind, they look to one another for direction. The precursors set them in their ways and then send them off to do the dirty work but- 

The soft gasp enticed Newt to turn and face her.

Hermann blinked, shaking his head as his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, "Tell him he's an idiot, Lydia."

The woman tilted her head to the side and reached up to grab the old Latin writing that Pentecost had left. The bible. History re-written. A clue.

Her voice was sharp when she stood and slammed the note book down, pointing at the phone and then to Newton, "We need a hacker."

\------------------------------

Once Stiles' two agonizing days in bed were up, Isaac had him transported to the restoration pod which was in the regeneration hall on the first floor. It was an interesting room filled with hollow cylinders trapped in soft white light. The walls were all just as stark as the infirmary except for a few decorative ferns hanging here and there between the machines.

Stiles arched a brow and squinted over the rim of his glasses, head tilting to the side, "What's up with the plants?" 

Dr. Lahey turned his attention to one of the lighter green ferns nestled just below a vent in the ceiling, "Honestly? Relaxation purposes. They help the pilot's feel a little safer." 

Stiles couldn't disagree, the plants did distract him a bit, but they didn't necessarily make him feel any better about the situation at hand. Perhaps that was due to the fact that he wasn't concerned about the idea of his bones rearranging themselves but more so on the radioactive Kaiju, his co-pilot, the dying woman still struggling to hang on to life upstairs and his father who he hadn't been given the chance to speak to in over a week.

The panel on the restoration pod slid open when Isaac pressed a few buttons. It hummed warmly, dormant and waiting for Stiles to slide himself inside.

Stiles looked anxiously to his phone, typing out a quick text.

**To: Derek Hale**

**From: Stiles Stilinski December 1, 2031, 10:07 A.M**

where are you

The beta let a sigh fall over his lips when he heard steady footsteps near the door and felt his body relax into the familiar weight of Derek's hand on his shoulder. 

"Where've you been?" Stiles mumbled when his co-pilot glanced down at him, "I haven't seen you in two fucking days."

Derek swallowed dryly and Stiles felt a knot start to fester in the pit of his stomach. His throat clenched, chest burned and he bit down on the inside of cheek. Something was wrong, Stiles could feel it. He could feel it in the tightness of Derek's fingertips, read it like words across the tension in his brow and couldn't dismiss the fleeting movements of his usually all-too heavy stare. 

When the alpha said nothing Stiles' teeth ground down against one another. He opened his mouth but the hum of the pod intensified and Derek squeezed his shoulder once again before Isaac gestured to the white padding inside, "This isn't going to be fun," the doctor promised, "but once it's done, it's done and you'll be good as new."

"Good as new?" Stiles repeated.

Isaac Lahey nodded and shrugged towards Derek who was hesitant to remove his fingertips from around the sharp edge of Stiles' shoulder when he was hoisted out of the wheelchair and carefully set in the pod.

Hale agreed, "It's going to hurt like a bitch," his lips twisted into a frown and he narrowed his eyes as if a distant memory had intruded the conversation, "but it's worth it." 

Pain shot down into Stiles' legs and warmed the tops of his feet, his chest ached and he winced when he laid down against the cold memory foam padding inside the pod. It was small and his heart was pounding. Too fucking small. His legs lifted on their own accord and he felt the side of his foot hit the round side of the machine as the pod slid closed. 

"Derek," Stiles didn't realize that he had called out his co-pilots name until the sound of Derek's palm against the glass rattled him back into existence. Wide caramel eyes blinked rapidly as Stiles tried to calm down, tried to breathe, watched Derek nod slowly and assure that everything would be okay, voice muffled through the glass. Stiles could almost see his breath, felt the pod latch into place and start to hum even louder. 

Isaac reached for Derek, tugged on his arm and nodded before he pressed another few buttons on the pods surface. The control panel was small, just the left of the machine itself and as Derek gave Stiles one last nod the surface of the glass pod was shut out by a steel outer layer that paneled itself around the entirety of the spherical instrument.

Stiles couldn't keep his breathing under control, couldn't keep himself from shaking and he squirmed when the soft light that he had seen before intensified and a quiet mist released from the vents just shy of his ear lobes. 

It was hard to understand where it came from- the pain. It felt like someone had reached inside of each of his limbs and started picking apart the pieces that needed to be tied back together. He heard his collar bone pop and he didn't know if he had screamed or yelped or done anything at all when his torso stretched and his ribcage re-aligned itself. The fractures in his pelvis were the most painful; he writhed and bucked when he felt his insides start to burn. It felt like someone was dripping hot wax onto his nerve endings, like they had dipped him in some kind of acid that was slowly eating away at his bones.

But when it ended, it ended.

His cheeks were blotched red, chest the same, but Stiles rolled his shoulder, flexed his stomach and pressed his hips up when the pod hummed and beeped. The paneled scales covering the machine folded back down and the door slid open, allowing Stiles to slide out and stand up.

It wasn't the most graceful re-appearance, seeing as the lack of movement for days upon days had given his legs quite a shock when they were given the duty of holding himself up. "Whoa," Derek laughed softly and caught him, one hand wrapping around Stiles' waist while the other lifted his shoulder up, "slowly. Your body needs time."

The feeling of Derek against him reminded Stiles of just how important the man holding him up was. He could feel the strength tamed beneath his palms, could almost hear his heart beat thumping against his chest as he turned to watch Stiles carefully.

"Alright, how do you feel?" Isaac walked forward and prodded at his ribs, causing Stiles to hiss and recoil. The doctor felt along his collar bone and Stiles blushed when his hands skimmed across his waist band to press against his hips, "Everything seems to be okay-"

"Y-yeah," Stiles mumbled, "I feel fine. Which is..." he leaned against Derek before reaching down to touch his own torso, run his hands down the curve of his hips to the flexing muscle in his thighs, "surreal..."

"Technology has brought us to new and strange places," Isaac sighed and pointed lazily towards the door, "you need to rest for a few hours before you try to train, get something to eat, take a shower, relax. Come back and see me tomorrow."

The beta nodded dumbly as Derek growled something under his breath that coaxed Stiles to lean into him as they walked. 

Derek's hand was set comfortably on Stiles' hip, his arm secured around the ranger's waist to help steady him out the door and towards their apartment. 

It felt so off and so completely alright at the same time. There was conflict settled inside the comfortability that came with the package of the two of them. Stiles could feel the tension but he could also feel the warmth. The way Derek hummed for him to watch his step when they walked through the doors of the apartment building, the far too delicatre gesture for Stiles to lean on him when the alpha fished around for his key and then pushed the door open.

"I'm okay," Stiles assured when he squirmed in Derek's grasp and turned to face his co-pilot as he clicked the lock on the door, "but you're not," he tested, eyeing the veteran carefully as green eyes turned to stare at Stiles' feet. 

The apartment was well kept, no dishes, the blanket was folded neatly and draped over the back of the couch. An empty Blue Moon bottle was set on the breakfast bar. Derek inhaled sharply through his nose and turned his head further when Stiles took a step towards him.

"Der," Stiles swallowed, "look at me."

Stiles swore he could get lost in the forest hidden behind Derek's eyelashes any day.

"What... What is it- what, talk to me, I can feel it- I," Stiles waved his hand between the two of them, eyes dancing nervously behind the black rimmed glasses settled on the tip of his nose, "I need you- I need you to tell me or..." he swallowed again, back straightening when Derek leaned into his space and inhaled the words stumbling out of Stiles' mouth.

"Or... s-show me, but Derek, you can't just..." the beta sighed quietly, letting the sentence go as his co-pilot closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth over Stiles' lips.

It took a minute for him to reach out and let himself touch Derek, to control his fingertips and slide them up over his shoulders. Not because it was off or seemed unfamiliar, quite the opposite, really. Stiles felt him like he felt himself; felt him like he felt the sheets of his bed back home, like he felt locked inside of Lionheart. Derek felt like permanence and fire and everything that Stiles almost took for granted.

Stiles whispered 'I missed you' through the gaps of their lips and felt Derek's hands start to tremble, reached out and grasped his cheek, felt the coarse hair on his palm and pulled at the alpha's face like perhaps it might have been the last thing he had to hold on to.

There was moment when he wanted to talk about it all, set Derek straight and tell him that he loved him back, that it wasn't all in vain. He wanted to cry, he wanted to see Derek cry, to talk about Erica, about the fight, about everything. But then there was Derek's hands like hot coals tearing at his shirt, and his mouth blocking out the rest of what Stiles had rehearsed in his head as he latched it down on the bottom of his throat and bit.

The moment when Stiles opened his mouth and tried to spit out a wait, or a hold on, all that came sputtering out was incoherent nonsense until he heard Derek mumble 'I love you too.'

Maybe he was saying all the right things, breathing them like the ghosts of words he had mistook for gestures into Derek's neck, choking on them and pressing them into his co-pilots flesh when they finally made it to the couch and Stiles felt the cold leather against his back.

Maybe this was an escape, or maybe it was an epiphany, Stiles didn't know. What he did know was Derek and the press of his lips, hard, warm and full of an emotion that the pilot truly did not know how to process. He knew Derek's hands as they skidded across his skin, knew his tongue, knew his chest, knew just how to tangle his fingers in Derek's dark locks of hair and feel him like he had never felt anyone before.

"I almost lost you," Hale breathed the words into another bruising kiss and Stiles swallowed them down.

I almost lost you

\------------------------------

Lydia Martin threw a dress into her suitcase, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and rambled on about her plan to Isaac who stood with his arms crossed in the door way of her bedroom. He sipped on a cup of dark coffee and shook his head when she continued to sigh and assure him that it would work- it had to work, she kept repeating. 

“I mean, if it doesn’t work then it’s just another used up theory but, Isaac, I,” she breathed, turned to face him as her shoulders heaved, “I don’t know what else to do. We have to do something, now.”

The woman whirled around again and started shoving pairs of heels into her case followed by a cosmetic bag and some shampoo and conditioner. The tight pencil skirt wrapped around her thighs was riding up slightly and the red button up shirt she had tucked into it was coming askew in the back. 

“Come here,” Isaac laughed softly, tugging at her arm as he reached to tuck the shirt back in. Lydia’s nose wrinkled and her flush was far from deliberate.

“Excuse me,” she smirked playfully, swatting at his hand and moving to fix her outfit on her own, “I don’t need you pawing at me while I’m trying to explain to you how I’m going to save the fucking world.” 

The doctor rolled his eyes, “Lydia… You can’t… You can’t do this-“

“I can, actually,” she piped matter-of-factly, closing her suit case and sitting on it so she could zip it up.

Isaac’s teeth were set hard and he shook his head once again, stomping forward to catch her wrist when she reached for her phone as it rang on the nightstand, “Please, listen to me-“

“Isaac,” Lydia warned, mossy eyes sparking in his direction as she tugged her arm away and reached for the phone.

“This is Lydia,” she answered, eyes still boring into Isaac who stared back at her. They stayed like that for a moment, simply watching each other breathe, Isaac focused on the soft pout of Lydia’s bright pink bottom lip, Lydia settled on memorizing the way Isaac’s jaw flexed when he was angry.

Isaac shook his head, soft eyes pleading with the woman before him to lower the phone, to agree with him for once, to find another way but she inhaled deep and tilted her head, an apologetic glance thrown his way before she spoke, “tell him to be ready for pick up as soon as I land. We’ll be heading straight to the base in New York to run through the deal before we fly back to Shatterdome.”

Isaac closed his eyes and exhaled when he heard Lydia shuffle around the room to grab her purse, heard the wheels of her suitcase against the hard wood floor and opened his eyes to find her leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss against his lips.

The doctor froze and Lydia didn’t smile, she simply stroked her thumb across his mouth to remove the stain of lipstick left behind and told him she’d be back in three days with the recruit she’d found in Rhode Island. 

Isaac heard the door shut. Listened to the silence left behind and reached up to brush his fingertips across his lips. 

Only Lydia Martin could kiss a man once and leave him cracking under the weight of her lipstick.

\------------------------------

No one was there when she woke up.

Not a single person.

But her scream could have woken the dead.

Harmony nearly tripped over her own feet when she ran into the infirmary, hands shaking as she flung the curtain back to see Erica Reyes retching out sobs at the sight of her own body. 

“What the fuck happened to me?” the pilot wailed, hands shaking as they hovered above the wound on her abdomen, a gaping healing mess of skin that was sunken into her torso. Her belly button was concaved, hips grotesque and sharp as they jutted out like the edge of a cliff where her body simply disappeared inside itself. 

The small nurse spoke words of encouragement, cooed and assured as Erica continued to curse and cry. 

“You were in an accident, Miss. Reyes, do you remember anything?” Harmony was adjusting her vitals, hands placed on Erica’s shoulders when she tried to lift herself from the bed, “Erica, stay put, sweetie, just-“

“Erica!” Herc’s voice sent her attention snapping from the wound on her stomach to his eyes as they bunched up to hold back the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks, “my wild girl, thank fucking god.”

The blonde’s lips trembled, her body quivered and she gasped in and out, ragged inhales and desperate exhales.

Isaac was next, running in as he shrugged on his lab coat, followed by Boyd who nearly fell to his knees at her bedside and pressed their foreheads together.

“Boyd? Boyd, what’s happened to me?” she choked, features contorted as she wept, “What’d they do to me?”

They didn’t calm her down enough to explain exactly what happened until Chris Argent made an appearance and they changed her bandages, until she asked everyone to leave except for Boyd and cried into his hands like they were going to absorb her pain, like they were going to dissolve her injuries and give her back the life she deserved, the life she had denied herself for the sake of humanity itself.

Stiles had been in the shower when Derek got the phone call and was hurled out of the water and told to get dressed. They ran- the two of them, climbed the stairs and skidded to a stop outside the door where Herc halted them. 

Boyd was with her and Stiles rested against Derek’s chest as they listened to her cry, listened to Boyd try to explain and winced when they heard the sound of Erica apologize to him, again and again and again.

Allison covered her mouth with her hand. Scott’s eyes squeezed shut. Herc shook his head and put his hands to his lips when he saw the twins pacing down the hall towards the group of people all waiting to console their friend.

Derek held on to Stiles, clutched his waist and closed his eyes. Stiles would have covered his ears if he could have because this was not how it was supposed to be. 

This was not the way he saw it played out in his head. All smiles. All tears of joy sliding down their cheeks as she opened her eyes and absorbed the life around her. No, this was not the way it was supposed to be. Stiles had convinced himself of his acceptance of that reality months ago, but it wasn’t until he was standing in a cold hallway pressed against the only thing keeping his breathing steady, listening to one of his best friends weep over the cards she had been dealt did he understand that acceptance was not aggreeance and aggreeance was not the light at the end of the tunnel.

There was no light.

There was just waking up into a nightmare and being convinced it was a dream.

There was only life and death, no happy ending, no other side of the fence, just this life. Just the give and take, the risk and reward.

Stiles inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth as Derek rubbed circles into the small of his back.

“We got her back,” Derek whispered softly.

Stiles nodded as he listened to her sniffle and cough from inside the room.

“Yeah,” he mumbled into the curve of Derek’s shoulder, “yeah, we got her back.”

\------------------------------

Lydia Martin smiled across a large wooden table.

“So, computer science major, huh?” She grinned, eyebrows arched, “We’ve heard a lot about your skills when it comes to re-programming extremely delicate data and we’ve also heard of some of your side projects.”

She winked.

“My side… projects?”

“You’re a brilliant hacker,” Lydia laughed, swinging a leg over her thigh as she grinned and glanced around the large library, “I was thinking perhaps you’d like to help me with a project that could save the planet. To be quite honest, my interest in your answer is low, what I’m telling you is that you’re being recruited and that your choices are limited.”

Lydia did not speak like Raleigh, warm and welcoming. She spoke like someone who was losing a fight.

“Mr. Mahealani?” the red-head tilted her head to the side.

Danny swallowed, cheeks flushed as he clutched a text book against his chest, and nodded, “When do we start.”

\------------------------------

Notes:

:D This took me forever! Thank you guys for being so patient and I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though it was a bit of a jumbled filler. The conclusion is coming upon us soon! Probably two or three more chapters until it's finished :] as always thank you guys so much for reading and your thoughts are always appreciated! 

say hi on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The time it took for Erica to allow people into the room with her was long and draining. Stiles could feel the tension rolling off of Allison's shoulders every time she shifted, could sense the distress in Scott's fingertips when he rolled them together and tried not to think about the worry riddled underneath Derek's flesh as he rested his forehead into the curve of his co-pilot's collar bone. When the woman did nod to Boyd and sent for them, they all came walking in, weak and waiting for an outburst- defending themselves from the fire they expected her to breathe. Because Erica was like a silent volcano, dormant and repressed for the most part, but completely capable of destruction.

However, Stiles was graced with puffy red eyes and a soft smile curved up from chapped pink lips. Erica had the blanket up over her stomach and Boyd had brought her a hair tie so she could at least try and make herself look a tad bit put together. Derek knelt down next to her and she reached out to touch his face when he put his chin on the edge of her bed. There was a soft sound- the click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she watched him, whispered 'hi' and tapped him on the nose. Allison was disheveled, makeup all smudged around her eyes, nose stuffed and lashes all clumped together but Erica reached for her with her other arm and the combat specialist leaned down to cocoon long lean arms around the ranger like a cage. 

Erica's eyes looked worn as she pushed them up to stare at Stiles who stood at this edge of her bed with his fingertips gently pressed against her heel. She shifted her foot and he gripped, "Welcome back," the words were soft and Stiles hardly knew if he'd meant to say them or not, his control over what came out of his mouth seemed to be off as of late, but she smiled again and cleared her throat.

"I never left," the woman's voice was hoarse and cracked under the weight of each word but Stiles smirked and Scott nodded from beside Allison, because it was true. She had never left them. 

The group spent time with her; Raleigh and Mako showed close to an hour later and praised her for her actions on the field. Mako sat on the edge of her bed and felt along the curves of Erica's cheeks, called her beautiful, made her feel. That's what Mako did, though. She brought the emotion back into the empty spaces left behind.

When Lydia was brought up, Isaac assured that she would be back soon and was off doing research for her newest idea which most of them seemed to be curious about. The doctor wouldn't release any details, seeing as the ones he was let in on weren't even that set in stone to begin with. 

The twins cracked jokes, made her laugh and sigh- which was everything that Stiles wanted to see. He craved the Erica that arched her brow and spit wit like acid, the Erica who tossed her hair over her shoulder and prided herself in the ability to drink each of them under the table. That was the Erica that Stiles prayed wouldn't have burned under the influence of the Kaiju blue and the relief he felt at the sight of her grin could have melted his bones.

Raleigh was the one to explain what happened and Boyd pulled a chair up next to her bed and held her hand as they went over the story. She stared down at her chest the whole time, nodding once or twice until he concluded and raised a hand in mock surrender, "We're going to figure this out but to be honest we've hit a dead end."

Dr. Lahey cleared his throat, "Lydia and those mad men will come up with something," he assured.

Erica's lips were parted and she glanced around the room a couple times before letting her gaze rest on Boyd, "How long until we can fight?"

Stiles felt Derek lean into him and he looked blankly at the floor. They all knew the answer- could feel that she knew the answer too, but no one spoke. Not until she nearly choked on the reality of it all. The sound was like getting punched in the chest and Stiles closed his eyes when her chest convulsed and she gasped out something of a sob, eyes wide and lips shaking, "I... I can't fight, can I?" 

Wide un-blinking eyes turned to Isaac and then to Herc who was watching her carefully with his arms folded across his chest, "I'm losing my wings?" Erica whimpered.

Derek's hand bumped against Stiles' fingertips and Stiles gripped them tenderly. It was strange to think of himself all those months ago with his mind wrapped around the idea that being a pilot was a burden, a consequence, but in reality, as he kept his eyes on the ground and away from Erica, he had come to realize that the punishment of being a Jaeger pilot was losing the ability to be inside your Jaeger.

It was like losing a limb- like being ripped out of yourself and forced to live a life without the safety of the armor that had melded itself to your flesh. Stiles could hardly stand to think of what it would be like to have Lionheart taken from him; the only thing worse would be losing his co-pilot.

"No," Isaac soothed, "of course you aren't losing your wings but we need to make sure your body can handle the strain of Striker. It'll..." he paused and nodded solemnly, "It will be a little while, Erica. A few months."

She only relaxed slightly, lips pursed into a thin line before she gave a curt nod and stared back down at her hands which were covered lovingly by Boyd's palms. What she wanted to say was obvious. It was obvious to every single person in the room.

They didn't have a few months.

Stiles felt Derek's foot bump against his own and exhaled in his direction, honey eyes finding their way to Hale's gaze as he looked over and blinked. They didn't say anything, no one did. Stiles just reached out and squeezed Erica's foot again- a gesture only acknowledged by the swift bat of her lashes.

\------------------------------

It was December, Stiles reminded himself bitterly as his feet hit the fast moving treadmil beneath him, and he wondered exactly where Halloween and Thanksgiving had gone. He called his dad, talked to friends back at Brown, but nothing was done. There was no celebration. Tables weren't covered in batches of home cooked food and no one was wondering how they were going to get their hands on fake blood or head bands riddled with different animal ears.

Maybe it was because they were more concerned with real blood and furthering the human existence that shook the group out of an ingrained set of holidays. Maybe that was how the days that used to be spent with family simply slipped by and ghosted over them like hushed memories.

Derek was across the gym lifting weights and Stiles thought back to a few of the flashes he had seen in his dreams or on the field. The Black Keys were playing in his head phones and he smiled fondly as the thought of Derek dressed as the Green Lantern for his eleventh Halloween filled the spaces behind his eye lids. How his mother cooked wild pheasant and made mashed sweet potatoes every Thanksgiving and how he kissed a girl named Kate one New Years in high school- it was the last female he'd ever kissed.

There was something so strange about falling out of the life he had been raised in and tumbling blindly into another but Stiles was finally starting to understand the reality of it all and he no longer questioned where his place was. 

Hale glanced up, eyes flicking to his co-pilot who was slowing down a brisk walk and taking a sip off the water bottle to his left, and ran his fingers through sweat-drenched locks. He nudged his chin towards the door and Stiles nodded when Derek turned and headed for the exit.

Stiles kept walking, stretched, and followed after him about ten minutes later with his headphones still pushed snugly into his ears. There was something about being turned off, tuned out, on auto-pilot that allowed him to sink inside himself and re-evaluate the situation at hand. The Kaiju. The breach. Lydia being gone. A new plan. 

People darted this way and that, the hallways were crowded, a few of the mechanics that had worked on the Jaeger's nodded at Stiles who smiled back. He cut through the Hangar to take a look at Lionheart on his way out and found himself with his neck craned staring up at her for five minutes before someone prodded him in the arm and shook him from his trance.

"Hey!" Scott tugged on the cord of his head phones and Stiles' brows flicked up, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he turned off his music and tucked his phone and headphones away.

"Oh- hi, hey. I was just... looking, I guess," Stiles stammered, honey gaze flickering up to Lionheart's deep brick red armor once again, "she looks great."

A strong arm was slung over Stiles' shoulders and he couldn't help but grin as Scott tugged on him, swaying him back and forth, "Yeah, she does!" Scott exclaimed, "We've got her all fixed up for you two. Reinforced armor, new hydraulics, awesome new shock system in the legs and boots," the mechanic gestured to Lionheart's bottom half and nodded swiftly to himself, "Fixed your mortar guns, too." 

Stiles nodded slowly, large eyes trailing across the polished armor. Lionheart was beautiful in such an incredibly dangerous way and the ranger couldn't help but want to crawl back inside her and get lost between the metal bindings. He wanted to propell himself into the drift and rip something apart- rip a Kaiju apart. Tear them all into bits and pieces. 

He would think of Erica the entire time, just like Derek always thought of Jackson.

It hurt- and Stiles could taste blood in his mouth just from the thought because they hadn't lost Erica and Stiles hadn't lost his co-pilot, the idea that he could ever imagine the feeling, even if he had felt it himself in Derek's distant memories, made him sick. 

Scott patted the top of his shoulder and smiled gingerly, "You alright, buddy?"

The beta nearly jumped out of the pre-back lash he had practically hurled himself into and stammered, "Uh, oh, y-yeah, yeah, I'm good... I'm just gonna head back to the apartment and then I guess were meeting up with Lydia when she gets back on base tonight. Are you visiting Erica anytime today?"

McCall nodded, "Yeah, Allison is going to try and get her in a walker, see if we can maybe get her down to the regeneration hall."

Stiles and Derek had spent all morning with her, allowing Boyd some time to sleep in a bed and take a shower. She told lazy stories, laughed and winced and cried a few times, but Stiles didn't mind. He laughed along with all of her vulgar jokes and smoothed her hair out of her face when it fell over her shoulder. 

It was almost comforting to find how easy it was to slip back into the shoes of a care-taker, even if he hadn't sat at someone’s bed-side in almost ten years.

God, ten years.

A lump scratched and swelled in Stiles' throat, but he swallowed it down with the rest of their reality and tried to smile, "Good, well, I'm sure we'll see you in the lab, at what? She said-"

"Nine thirty is when she's supposed to get back," Scott nodded. 

Stiles sighed and smiled to Scott as he took his leave, throwing one last glance to Lionheart before making his way out of the hangar.

\------------------------------

"Hungry?" Derek piped over the sound of something sizzling in a pan on the stove.

Stiles' nostrils flared and he inhaled, enjoying the sting of Cajun spices and herbs that popped and cracked against the chopped vegetables Derek had put together. He nodded, shrugging the dark brown leather jacket off his shoulders before he took a seat at the bar and watched his co-pilot.

There was something so comfortable about the way Derek slouched and leaned into the counter, licked the top of his fingers and hummed softly against the static of cooking food and the quiet television playing in the back ground. Something about the scene made Stiles wonder if a future was attainable, and if he had the chance to have one, would he live it with the man in front of him? Strange really, because Stiles hardly blinked at the idea of going through the rest of his days with Derek at his side. It seemed like an equation that he'd never knew needed to be solved suddenly displaying an answer to him, installing a deeply ingrained purpose- a sole desire to never live a day without Derek Hale.

It terrified him.

"Stiles-" Derek's eyebrows were knitted together and he tossed a dish rag into the sink before he walked around the side of the bar where Stiles was sitting with his face in his hands, inhaling and exhaling again and again. It wasn't a panic attack- not nearly as bad, but it was close and the veteran pilot frowned when Stiles shook his head and batted at Derek's hands when they reached for him.

"I'm-" Stiles swallowed, "I'm fine, just," he gulped down a breath of air and set his glasses down next to him, thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose, "give me a minute." 

The alpha took a step back, hand still resting on Stiles' shoulder as he peeked up at Derek from under his lashes. What the fuck was he supposed to say? 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Derek's lips twitched into another frown and he paced over to the counter to click off the stove and give the vegetables a quick stir, "I understand if you don't, things haven't been easy and I-"

"What're you gonna do if we live?" Stiles blurted, "like, where-" he sighed, hands lifting to swing through the air, "where do you see yourself if all of this gets sorted out?"

Hale was quiet for a minute, his eyes flicking between the two plates he had grabbed from the cabinet as he piled the vegetables and brown rice on to each. He set one in front of Stiles and stood with his own, pushing around a few pieces of broccoli.

Stiles looked down at his plate before he closed his eyes and sighed through his nose, mulled over the question he had just asked and realized how ridiculous it sounded. He could feel it in his stomach, coiling and bouncing, causing his nerves to shift and shake.

"Back in Oregon," Derek answered softly, "hopefully somewhere at least near you in some way. I hope that isn't out of the cards if this does end, I hope-"

"I want to stay," there came the words again, quick and stubborn as they fell out of Stiles' mouth, "I want to be-" he huffed, cheeks darkening and eyes rolling, "I can't not be with you. It doesn't feel right, it doesn't sit right and I don't know if it's because I love you or because we're drift compatible and god, Derek- I don't," he stopped, eyes squeezed shut once he realized just how much had escaped before he could seal his lips back together.

Derek was quiet, nodding even as Stiles slowed himself down.

"I don't want you to be stuck tied to me for the rest of your fucking life because you were forced into something by Raleigh." 

The TV sounded distant, a soft vibration behind the quiet the filled the room before Derek scraped his fork against the plate and nearly growled, eyes rolling heavily in their sockets, "What the-" he snapped his teeth together, "Are you fucking kidding me?"  


Stiles' blush deepened and he stuttered out another few words that didn't make any sense before Derek set the plate down and paced, "Are you doing this right now because of everything that's been going on? Is this something we really need to discuss right now?"

"You're my co-pilot, Derek! This is a little impor-"

"Is it? Because we could die, Erica needs us, I need you, everyone fucking needs us and you're here making me second guess something that I can hardly understand anyways, what-" the veteran pilot rumbled deep in his throat, "what the fuck do you want? Do you want a co-pilot, do you want a boyfriend, do you want me, do you want to be a Jaeger pilot in general? Because since we went down on the field you've been acting like I'm-"

"Like you think you're in love with me!" Stiles hissed, pushing his plate away and standing, "It's just the drift, it's our bond, it's-"

"Is it?" Derek nearly sang sarcastically, eyes rolling towards the ceiling, "Is that what it is, huh? Because, Stiles, I can't fucking stand you sometimes. There are times where I want to rip your fucking head off but-" he inhaled sharply through his nose and Stiles felt his teeth set hard and grind together, "but then you sing in the fucking shower-" he almost choked on how absurd the words sounded coming out of his mouth, "and you eat like a rabbit, you kick the sheets everywhere in the bed, and you-"

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip, fingers curled into fists where they trembled at his side. 

"You talk to me in languages that I can't understand," Derek breathed, "and you know loss," his voice quieted, "you can't ever control yourself, you're completely volatile."

"Fuck you," Stiles snapped bitterly.

"And I love you for some fucking reason," Derek sighed the words angrily, "at least I'm man enough to fucking admit when I feel something, Stiles."

He turned to walk away, down the hall, bare feet pounding against the tile. The tips of Stiles' ears were red, his cheeks and chest were blotched and he almost spat, "I knew I wanted you the second I saw you through that window," he shoved the tall chair back under the bar, "but it's a bit hard defining feelings these days when you're literally all I can fucking feel!"

Derek stopped, chin tipped up over his shoulder as Stiles walked towards him.

"I love you, that's clear as fucking day, Hale. I told you that yesterday; I told you that in drift, I've shown you that each and every time-"

"Then why are we arguing?" Derek turned swiftly, voice even and firm, "Why are you doing this then, Stiles? What reason do you have-"

The beta fidgeted with his nail beds before he stomped his foot and waved his hands between the two once again, "Bojim se!"

The alpha shrugged his shoulders.

Stiles felt his head start to spin, his lungs burned and he bit down hard on his bottom lip before he finally gave in. His body was tired. His mind was tired. His heart was tired. And if this man was going to die with him then he might as well live with him if they get the chance.

So he was honest, "I'm scared," he clarified quietly, honey eyes searing into Derek's as they stood in the hallway outside of his room. 

Derek's lips parted and his eyes fell to the floor, searching his own bare feet for something to say. He reached out his hand, left his palm open and waited until he felt Stiles' hesitant fingertips reach his skin. 

There wasn't a breath between them before Derek was tugging him into a tight embrace, warm hand shoved under Stiles' shirt, the other curled around the back of his neck. Stiles' glasses fell askew on the tip of his nose and he could hardly look at his co-pilot who shook him slightly and rumbled a growl, "Stiles."

The beta lifted his eyes and felt something like relief flood across the bundled up nerves settled in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm always scared... But I'm not scared of you," Derek's words were a soft breath against the side of his face and when Stiles nodded, a sudden agreement, an understanding, he was captured roughly by a pair of chapped lips. 

It was the truth. The only truth.

They were scared.

They were fucking terrified.

But Derek didn't have to fear Stiles.

And Stiles didn't have to fear Derek.

Stiles pressed himself into the contours of Derek's body, felt the ridges of a scar start to form over his brow, whispered a quick 'sorry' when the alpha flinched at a bruise being handled on his hip. He had always felt like fire to Stiles, something constant and burning and not completely solid. But that afternoon his skin was soft and warm under Stiles' hands, he felt breakable and damaged and just a little bit like home and a lot like his own completely fucked up version of a happy ending in a time where happy endings were just folklore. 

They were the means to the end, the palpable opposite of their own fate and it had taken Stiles far too long to understand that.

\------------------------------

Lydia's heel tapped impatiently against the linoleum floor of the lab. 

Raleigh fiddled with Mako's fingertips.

Isaac brushed his hand across Lydia's waist and Scott watched the stranger from Brown tap against the glass of one of the test tubes across the room.

Allison sat next to Erica who was squirming and hissing in her wheel chair, Boyd was rubbing her shoulders.

Chris looked down to his watch.

Herc pulled at the zipper of his jacket. 

The twins were both on their cell phones.

Hermann scolded Newt for breaking is favorite pen.

"Where the fuck are they?" Lydia finally hissed, "Call them again."

Green eyes pointed to Isaac who was already fishing his phone out of his pocket.

\------------------------------

"Don't," Stiles gasped, fingernails digging into the flesh on Derek's shoulders.

Derek snaked his arm back around Stiles' waist and ignored the sound of the phone ringing on the night stand.

He listened to the way Stiles breathed instead, listened to the small sounds that dripped from his lips, the whispered encouragements. Derek moved his hands like clockwork over the spaces that left Stiles shaking in his arms, traced along the curve of his collar bone with the point of his tongue and enjoyed every short breath that was punched out of the man underneath him. 

Stiles writhed and clawed, sank his teeth into any area of flesh that he could find on Derek and held on. His fingers were long and nimble, reached here and there to grip and bruise the places on his co-pilot that no one else would see. 

When they finally did get around to looking at Derek's phone, Stiles nearly fell off the bed and scrambled to get dressed.

"We're shit friends, you know that?" Stiles rasped, stumbling to tug his jeans on as Derek tried to fix his hair into something acceptable.

"Yeah, we are," Derek mumbled through a short laugh, hands brushing over Stiles' waist when he bent down to grab one of Derek's shirts out of his drawer.

"No," Stiles snapped, batting at Derek's hands, "Stop it, get dressed-" he bit down on his lip, eyelashes fluttering when his co-pilot gripped harder, "I'm going to put Kaiju ticks in your shower if you don't stop, we'll be stuck here for another hour-" Stiles squirmed out of the alpha's grasp, fighting the urge to laugh when he heard Derek smirk quietly. 

Stiles' phone started ringing as he was grabbing his glasses off the breakfast bar and lacing up his boots, "I know," he answered, "We're coming, I'm so sorry, we just-"

Lydia was spitting curses at them from the other end of the phone and Stiles was rolling his eyes, "We're on our way right now!" 

The phone went silent and Stiles shook his head to Derek who shot him a curious glance. 

The alpha shrugged, a twisted grin curving the edges of his lips upright as Stiles rolled his eyes.

\------------------------------

Stiles ran his fingers through his hair and almost tripped when he pushed the door to the lab open. Derek followed behind him, fumbling to zip up his leather jacket, "Sorry we're late we..." Stiles' voice trailed off when Raleigh barked out a laugh and pointed to the alpha whose eyes widened.

"Nice, Hale," Becket shook his head, cooing on his own laughter as he gestured to Derek's throat, which had been marked by a rather large darkening bruise. Deep forest eyes narrowed and snapped to Stiles who was biting down hard on his bottom lip and trying to hide the blotchy blush from frosting the tops of his cheeks even worse.

Erica started laughing from her wheel chair and Stiles could hear Scott start to snicker into Allison's shoulder, who had a hand up over her mouth. Aidan and Ethan grinned and nodded, eyebrows arched as they mumbled something in German to which Stiles hissed 'fuck you' in response to under his breath.

Chris rolled his eyes and Herc shrugged his shoulder towards Boyd and Erica, "Those two are worse," he mumbled to the other Marshall who shook his head.

There was a moment when Stiles opened his mouth to ask what they were all meeting to discuss, a moment when he was going to ignore the playfulness of his friends and jump straight to business but a loud yelp pulled his attention to the back of the room.

Stiles felt something in his chest drop, his eyes burned and he nearly choked when he watched Danny stumble backwards away from a large tube where a tentacle had slapped against its side. He wanted to fall straight into believing that it was some kind of side-effect from drift, another way to completely shatter his own reality. But Danny was there, a hand splayed across his own chest as he tried to steady his breathing because the Kaiju intestine had startled him.

"Can we just get to the point?" Lydia reached over to grab her papers and glanced over her shoulder where Danny was now fiddling with his thumbs, looking extremely out of place and completely overwhelmed. "Come here, Mr. Mahealani-"

"Danny...?" Stiles tested, fingertips brushing over the top of Derek's hand as he walked by, eyes searching the warm skin on his best friends face. 

Danny turned sharply, dark eyes widening when he saw Stiles almost knock over a few stack of paper work to get by, "Stiles- holy shit, Stiles!"

The fond expression that blanketed across Derek's face was soft and full of the ut-most compassion. He had met Danny countless times in Stiles' memories, seen the strength of their friendship and watched it grow over their years together in college. His own heart strings pulled at the sight of the young man, not only because he could see how happy his co-pilot was to see him, but because some where deep inside himself he could feel it too. 

The two almost tumbled over when Stiles flung himself into Danny's arms, hugging him tight and gripping his shoulders when Danny pushed him pack and let his eyes flick down over the new self that Stiles sported.

"What the fuck, did they put you in one of those machines from Captain America? Jesus, look at you!" Danny laughed and Stiles grinned, turning his face away in mock embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I haven’t called, we got in some trouble-" Stiles rambled, shaking his head, "I was kind of... out of commission for a little while," he swallowed when he watched Danny's eyes narrow, "but no, yeah, I'm fine. We're all okay, we just... a lot has happened," he concluded, nodding when Danny tilted his head to the side, "a lot."

The rest of the room had turned, eyes locked on the two.

Lydia arched a brow, Raleigh shrugged, holding his hands up as if he had no idea what the hell was going on. None of them did except Derek, who leaned against the frame of the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a soft smile cradled on his face.

"Excuse me," Lydia purred, watching the two carefully, "share with teacher, what the hell is going on?" 

"He's my," Danny pointed at Stiles and Stiles' words ran into his own, "old room mate from college."

"Danny," Derek added, which pulled Lydia's gaze to him, "That's Danny, they're best friends. Now that we have that out of the way how about we get on with this meeting."

Danny looked from Derek and then back to Stiles, blinking a couple times through a sheepish smile, "That's him," he whispered, "that's Derek Hale? I've seen him in interviews but damn, Stiles, how the fuck did you-"

"Shut up," the beta hissed quietly, shoving Danny's shoulder as he walked back over to lean against a black cabinet, "why exactly is Danny here?" he pointed his eyes at Lydia who was thumbing through her paper work and smoothing the lumps out of her pencil skirt before she stood.

"Don't you guys do invasive back ground checks; wouldn't you have seen that we were dorm mates for four years?" Stiles asked another question before Lydia could answer the first and she kicked at his feet with her close-toed heels.

"Well, I will get to why we're all here if you'd stop talking for one, and to be honest I haven't had time to really go through proper procedure seeing as we have exploding Kaiju on our hands. I've been doing my job, while you've been-" she gestured lazily between Stiles and Derek, "doing him." 

Boyd snorted on his own laughter and Danny almost choked when Stiles rolled his eyes and spun his finger impatiently, "Get on with it, Lydia." 

Derek simply flicked his eyebrow and hummed softly from the door way.

"Alright," Lydia rubbed her palms together before she reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I have... a plan," she tested carefully.

Newton whined from behind her and Hermann rested his chin in the palm of his hand and shook his head back and forth. There was something living in the apprehension that suddenly crept its way across the floor and wound itself around everyone’s feet, something that told Stiles to cut her off right there, to immediately disagree with whatever it was she was about to throw out into the open. It was in Newt's eyes as they peered at the ground through his glasses, in Hermann's mannerism's and in Isaac's hands as they tightened into fists at his side before he shoved them into the pockets of his black pants.

The strawberry blonde folded the papers gently against her chest and swallowed, lips trembling softly, "The Kaiju," she started, "have adapted to our weaponry, our emotions, our language. They continue to steal bits and pieces from us-" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, manicured fingernails digging into the paper in her hands, "my theory is to re-evaluate the idea of a hive mind, the idea of the Kaiju in itself and to further understand our capabilities as creators. As inventors."

Chris watched her carefully and Mako tilted her head to the side as she paced in front of the group.

Deep green eyes flicked around the room and Lydia sighed, "We've drifted with the Kaiju in previous circumstances-"

"Well, this has been fun," Herc interjected roughly with a roll od his eyes, "but no one will be drifting with any Kaiju."

Lydia's cheeks heated and she stomped her foot, "Listen!" She hissed, sending Herc's head jutting back and his eyebrow raised towards the ceiling. 

"As I was saying, a hive mind is like a network, intricate, but still a network. They're programmed and sent out with the only instinct they have, which is to destroy. Their ability to feel pain, fear, regret, it's us," she waved her hands, a grin spread across her face, "all of those emotions come directly from mimicking human emotion so-" she held up a finger and gestured to Danny who nodded from his place next to Isaac, "if a network so detailed can be configured by the Precursors and if we can influence them so easily then how hard would it be to hack them."

Derek tilted his head slightly and Stiles watched Danny send a curt nod in his direction, a 'yes this is happening' a solidification to the insanities that were spilling out of Lydia's mouth.

But no one said a word.

"If we can drift with them and send signals- Morse code-" she waved an open palm to Stiles, "to let us in, then we can get inside their heads, dig, re-program them."

Chris shook his head and sighed, "Lydia, this is all extremely thought out but you can't expect to hack something that doesn't have a code. It has nothing that-"

"In all due respect, sir," Danny stammered out, "DNA itself is a code, if this," he paused, "drifting," he shrugged, "is everything that Lydia has explained that it is then we wouldn't have a problem re-coding their basic instinct."

"What is the plan, give me simple, Mrs. Whitt-"

"Miss," Lydia corrected, swallowing painfully and exhaling sharply through her nose, "it's Miss."

Stiles felt Derek stiffen next to him and saw his jaw flex, eyelashes flutter. 

Raleigh nodded slowly, "Miss Martin," he offered, to which she accepted with a nod, "Give me something simple. What are you asking for?"

Stiles looked around the room, from the shocked expression that Allison wore, to the confusion riddled across Scott and Boyd's face. He saw Erica sitting straight in her wheel chair, a blank stare pointed through Lydia. The twins said nothing, simply listened and waited. When honeycomb eyes found their way to his co-pilot Stiles took a step closer into Derek's space because it was obvious by the distance in his eyes that he was not okay with what was about to come out of Lydia's mouth.

The woman's lips pursed into a thin line, "I'm asking for permission to drift with an intact Kaiju brain alongside Mr. Mahealani in an attempt to reprogram the amygdala and neo-cortex of the hive mind that the Precursors have blue printed so that the Kaiju will inherently self-destruct within the Anteverse." 

His knees buckled and it it wasn't for Derek's arm wrapped snugly around his waist, Stiles would have fallen. His eyes were plastered to Danny who stared back at him, something of an apology being written behind his eyes. Chris looked to Herc who looked back and nodded slowly, a gesture of understanding, a relaxed acceptance. Derek's breathing was hard as he glued his gaze to Lydia who swallowed a shaky breath and stood up straight, the papers crinkling quietly in her grasp as she pulled them further into her chest.

Raleigh leaned over to Mako when she lifted her head and sighed, "It sounds like a suicide mission," she piped.

Derek's muscles clenched and he narrowed his eyes at Lydia who pointed her gaze down at the floor and shook her head, "It's been done before!" slender fingers pointed to Hermann and Newt, "If we can get it done and get it done quick then me and Danny will be fine, there will be no lasting damage-"

"No lasting damage?" Stiles' voice strained as he took a step forward and looked from Danny to Lydia and back again, "No lasting damage, Lydia? Are you kidding me?" 

The rangers in the room all seemed to have something else to look at in that moment, whether it was their shoes or the wall because Stiles' rage was spoken for each of them and his pain was felt in every pilot that had ever been on the field.

"The drift alone is not just-" he hissed, squirmed away from Derek who arched a brow and heaved a sigh, "It comes with consequences! It... That Kaiju, those Kaiju will imprint on you for the rest of your life. You'll... They'll be a part of you, when they die-"

Derek held his breath.

"You'll feel it."

Newt stumbled into the conversation, "Yeah, you will," he added with an uneasy laugh, "and their brains are larger than ours so it's a lot to take in. You might need a third partner," he looked to Lydia and nodded, shrugging a shoulder when she nodded back.

"Oh, you fool, don't even think about it," Hermann grumbled, hitting the tip of his cane against Newton's shins, "If you think I'm letting you dive into another Kaiju brain you're horribly mista-"

"I support it," Raleigh nodded, his voice earning silence from the rest of the room as he interrupted Hermann's ramblings. 

Chris bit down on his bottom lip, "What do you need from us?" 

Stiles' breathing was labored, his eyes wide as he stared through the lenses of his glasses, trying to calm the tremble in his hands, the uneven heartbeat that quivered behind his rib cage. There were thoughts swimming through his head, scenarios holding hands with memories all crashing and burning at the idea that this mission failed- at the sound of Danny choking on his own blood when it started rising up out of his throat, at Lydia dying with her eyes wide open with electrodes stuck to each of her temples.

Derek reached for him but he swatted his hand away and inhaled another shaky breath, "Lydia..." his voice was all bits and pieces, "please-" his tongue clicked against the top of his mouth and Stiles could have sworn that the room started to spin, "it's too fucking dangerous, there has to be another way, we can figure something-"

"There isn't," she bit, lips pursed tight again as she watched his jaw tighten in frustration.

Stiles picked up bits and pieces after that, heard Danny say that the next breach was in a few days, that they would need the Kaiju brain as intact as possible and that once they had it their window of opportunity would begin to shrink.

Hale's eyes never left Stiles, they dripped over the contours of his face and he could feel the heat of them sink beneath his skin and curl around his bones. Stiles just looked at the ground and waited for it to end. Waited for Lydia to thank them, waited for the questions, the planning, the strategy. Waited for Raleigh to turn around at stare at them, to gather the rest of the room in pointing their eyes at the pair of rangers near the door.

"Lionheart and Titan will be on the field to collect the sample," Raleigh's voice was raspy and heated, "Once the brain is harnessed by our field specialists Mako and I will meet them out there and wait for the next breach because as soon as you three make contact-" he nudged his chin towards Lydia, Danny and Newt, "they'll send reinforcements."

It took a moment. A moment of quiet contemplation before Stiles flipped the switch in his own mind, harnessed the anger flooding through him and aimed it exactly where it should have been aimed to begin with. He lifted his eyes and straightened his back, folded his arms over his chest and gave a swift nod, "Good." It was all Stiles said before he glanced at Derek and turned on his heels to walk out of the lab.

Danny looked to Derek, confusion pressing itself into the alpha's face before he finally started walking towards the door and peeked around the corner to catch a glimpse of Stiles turning the corner at the end of the hallway.

"He'll be fine," Raleigh mumbled softly.

Deep green eyes narrowed and Derek scoffed, "This is a suicide mission, Becket."

Erica's mouth fell slack and the twins coiled against each other’s shoulders.

Mako sighed gently and closed her eyes.

"It always has been," Raleigh countered calmly.

Derek didn't bother to argue, he simply shook his head at Lydia who turned her face away and walked out the door. 

\------------------------------

"Stiles!" 

Derek's voice was distant, echoing down the hall as Stiles paced towards the garden on the fifth floor. He ignored the strong call from his co-pilot and opened the door to the misty room, letting it shut behind him as he paced behind the exotic plants and trees riddled throughout the modern green house. 

Long fingers rubbed together and tapped anxiously against his lips. Stiles gnawed on the inside of his cheek, shifted back and forth on each of his ankles. 

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale through the nose.

Exhale through the mouth.

He heard the door open and close, recognized Derek's footsteps and still didn't turn to face him when his co-pilot loomed behind him.

Stiles fingers curled into fists, clenching and unclenching, his toes crossed in his boots and he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth again and again. 

"This isn't right," the beta finally mumbled into the cold damp air, "none of this is right."

Derek didn't reach for him, just waited for Stiles to take a step back, waited for him to bump into his chest and rest against him. He didn't wrap his arms around him, didn't bother trying to hold Stiles' hand or hug himself into his co-pilot's space. Derek just stood and let Stiles lean into him, let him rest his back against the alpha's front and breathed against the side of his face when he tipped his head back onto Derek's shoulder. 

"I mean- if this doesn't work we all... We're all gonna die, every single one of us and-"

"We'll all die anyways, Stiles," Derek finally spoke against his cheek, "if it doesn't work we're going to die and if we don't do it we're going to die."

Derek felt Stiles swallow and Stiles closed his eyes when they started to burn.

"You seem so okay with that," Stiles almost laughed, hands reaching for Derek's wrists.

"No," Derek shook his head, "I'm not okay with any of it."

Stiles trailed his fingertips across the top of his co-pilot's hands, felt along a few of the scars, the points where Kaiju blue had splattered all those years ago, where this life had branded him with consequence and punishments that he never deserved. 

The mist was light against his face and Stiles stopped shaking when Derek pressed against him and hummed, didn't say anything else, just stayed buried in Stiles' space like it was the most comfortable place he had to be. 

A white lily stood strong and tall in a pot just across from them and Stiles watched droplets of water stream down it's leaves. Watched them fall into the soil and disappear into the dirt. 

Life.

Beautiful, simple, meaningful life. 

Derek's hands finally found purchase on his waist and Stiles coaxed the sob that wanted to surface back down into his throat.

Life. 

It had to be worth it, didn't it?

Stiles turned his head and inhaled the scent of Derek's cologne.

God, he bit down on his lip and blinked over the rim of his glasses to look at the flower once again, it had to be. 

\------------------------------

Isaac threw his jacket on to the counter, licking over his bottom lip as Lydia rolled her eyes and shook her head, "I'm going to be fine, Isaac!"

"You don't know that, Lydia!" The doctor snapped back, palm slamming against the kitchen counter in her apartment, "You have no idea what kind of damage this could do, you don't even have a clue if this will work! You're going in completely blind and at what cost? Your life?"

"You're being over dramatic," she purred, purse landing somewhere on the couch as she reached over to grab a wine glass off the hanging shelf underneath her microwave. 

Lahey stepped in front of her, "What happens when this doesn't work? What happens when you die, when that kid dies, when-"

"Stop it," her voice was low and the red head shoved him with her arm, "don't mistake me for someone who will tolerate being spoken to like a child, Isaac. I've gone through everything I could, every single scenario and this is the only one that I think will work.  
It's the only thing we have left and-"

"And you dying doesn't matter at-"

"No! Me dying doesn't matter! Not when we have an entire planet populated with people to worry about."

She waved her hand at him, a dismissal with her eyebrows raised, and poured herself a glass of wine as he stood at her side, lips parted and cheeks darkened in a deep blush.

"When did you get so selfish?" she mumbled sarcastically under her breath, kicking her heels off and brushing past him as she walked towards the living room.

Isaac snatched her wrist before she could get far, tore the glass from her hand and set it down on the counter where it spilt messily over the marble. 

"Hey! Be careful, jesus, what are you..." Lydia's lips twisted into an aggravated frown but she stopped squirming when Isaac was brave enough to splay his hand across the small of her back and pull her easily into his torso. The woman stared at the ground, turned her head when he leaned in and brushed his nose against the top of her cheek, "Isaac... just-"

"You don't have to be his retribution," Isaac's voice was hardly a whisper and as he finished the last word he felt the sting of Lydia's palm hit his face. 

She stepped back, tearing herself out of his embrace only to be pulled back in by insistent delicate hands. Lydia's eyes welled with tears, her lips trembled and she let a small whimper fall from her mouth when she reached out to slap the doctor again.

The third time she raised her hand he caught her wrist, cheek red and blotched from the abuse of her denial and the sting of her pride.

"Let go-"

When Isaac kissed her it wasn't soft or forgiving, it was hard and his teeth clanked solidly against Lydia's when she gasped. Her hands pushed at his chest and she squirmed, mouth betraying her when she pressed back into him and inhaled a sharp breath through her nose.

It didn't take long before her fingers were tangled in the doctors hair, before she was hoisting her legs up around his waist and hissing demands against his lips. 

Shell pink nails dug into Isaac's back and peeled away at the powder blue button up that covered his torso. There was a moment when Isaac asked if she was alright but Lydia answered by pulling him down to the floor in the hallway just outside her bedroom.

He thumbed clumsily at her cheeks until the tears were gone, bruised her lips with his own and denied himself the worry of being careful with her because it was obvious that she was far stronger than he had ever thought to begin with. 

Stronger than any of them.

\------------------------------

Ahhhhhhhh :3 tell me your thoughts lovelies! [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)


	14. Chapter Fourtneen

"She's driven," Danny raised a brow and glanced to Stiles who sat on the other side of the sleek metal table in the cafeteria, "I mean, it's only been a few days since she pitched the idea and already we've harvested an intact Kaiju brain and-"

"Yeah," Stiles huffed a laugh, "the twins didn't seem to have a problem grabbing that for you, buddy." Deep caramel eyes rolled as he lifted a raw carrot to his lips and crunched down. The hall was almost empty, a few straggling mechanics drank coffee towards the exit and some other pilots from the neighboring hangars chatted amongst themselves. 

Stiles was spent. His muscles ached, body screamed and protested anything rather strenuous- every thought went through a stream of memories before even surfacing into something useful. He curled his hand into a fist where it sat stationary in his lap and his jaw tightened when he felt it twitch against his leg. Nothing was in control anymore. Not a damn thing.

"We haven't-" Danny cleared his throat and dragged a piece of celery through a mound of peanut butter, eyes pointed down at his place, "we haven't even really talked, man... What- how are you, let's-" he sighed and Stiles felt his stomach sink when familiar dark eyes blinked under a mask of lashes, "let's talk."

His heart was pounding, lungs burnt, fingers shook and Stiles wondered if Danny was even prepared for what he had to say. To be honest Stiles didn't even know what he wanted to say in the first place because, god, there was so much. From the 'why' to the 'how', to the explanations and the tears he knew he would shed. It was all pent up and Stiles felt like a can of soda someone had shaken and left out in the sun. Everything was coming to a head. Everything was surfacing and even after all the months he'd spent at Derek's side, he still didn't know if he was ready.

And now it was his best friend he had to be ready to lose if it came down to it. His best fucking friend- one of his reasons. One of Stiles' only reasons.

A soft sigh fell from between Stiles' lips and he reached up to push his glasses up on to the bridge of his nose, "What do you wanna talk about, Dan, I mean-"

"Fuck off, Stiles," Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, leaning back on the bench, "You know exactly what I want to talk about so come on."

Stiles felt his cheek start to heat, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he wanted to spit out more curses than anything else, really. 

"You literally have no idea what you're getting yourself into," Stiles started, teeth clanking as he bit out each word, "this war, everything about it, the drift, the kaiju, it's all so... fucking romantic outside of this base but when you're inside, when," he slid his palm along the top of the table before his fingers started to tap against it, "it eats you, Danny. It fucking eats you, chews you up and it doesn't spit you out it swallows you."

Danny watched him carefully, the same expression on his face that Stiles remembered back in college, the quiet understanding, mulled over silence that wore itself like a badge of honor. The same familiar tilt of his jaw, the same curt nod. The same. The same. The same. And in a matter of hours all of that would change, with the flash of memories and- god, how could he even...?

Stiles slammed his fist down on the table and Danny jumped.

"How could you even think that drifting with a fucking Kaiju would allow you to live a normal life? God, Danny, I-"

"I'll be fine," Danny snapped weakly under his breath, "Lydia and I will both be fine-"

"I've fought for you every single day!" Stiles didn't want to cry but he could feel his eyes start to burn, wanted to wretch at the sudden dampness on his lashes, "I've been fighting so you didn't have to."

A few of the pilots from across the room had dropped into hushed whispers in an attempt to over-hear what came after the loud sound of Stiles' fist hitting the table, of his voice- broken and dripping in anger as he stood up. But there was nothing after that, nothing from Danny and nothing from the ranger who ran his fingers through his hair and turned on his heels to walk towards the door and out into the hangar.

Stiles' cheeks were blotchy and red, his eyes waterlogged and strained from lack of sleep. Everything was falling, crippling his shoulders as the weight continued to stack itself on top of him. This was a war, not a fucking lab class and Stiles could hardly bear the idea that Danny wouldn't come back from this. His own life? He had come to terms with that being on the line. Derek's life? They went hand in hand. But Danny's? Danny's life? He always pictured his best friend with a boyfriend back home, getting a job working for Microsoft and making five figures a year for the rest of his life. Raising a family. Doing everything that Stiles had sacrificed for the chance to pilot a Jaeger.

Everything that Stiles had given up for an idea that he never wanted to embrace in the first place.

Nothing seemed right. Not a fucking thing.

\------------------------------

War.

Wrathful, meaningful, idealistic, euphoric, angry war. There wasn't anything civil about it, no rules of combat or drawing of lines. Not this time, not with the creatures that made Stiles want to erase the sickly color blue from his memories, not with the alien race that wanted to wear their lives like trophies on a belt. There was no way to swallow it that didn't make him choke, no way to understand it that allowed him to speak it fluently like all the languages he had so fondly learned. It was just war. A mess of life and death, resurrection and brutality. There was no in-between, no middle ground or truce. This was it.

This war was life, and his life was now a bucket full of consequence and slowly but surely Stiles was beginning to feel it burn his skin like acid.

Derek wasn't in the apartment when he got there and Stiles wanted to be thankful but that over-whelming pull in the pit of his stomach didn't allow it. Honeycomb eyes stared blankly at the tiled floor, his feet shifted and he tossed his keys on to the counter top, closing his eyes when he heard them slide and fall to the ground. Tears brimmed against his lashes, his bottom lip trembled and sooner than later Stiles found himself stomping over and picking up his keys only to hurl them against the far wall next to the flat screen. 

It didn't take long for him to hiss and slam his fist against the wall in the hall way, flinching when he pulled his knuckles back. He rolled his eyes at the sight of skin peeled up and blood pooling over his index and middle finger. Stiles didn't want to cry. He wanted to be strong. He needed to be strong. He needed control.

But everything was so insanely out of control. 

Derek's bed was warm, the sheets were soft and Stiles wrapped himself in them when he stumbled past the double doors and nearly tripped over a pair of his partners shoes. The curtains were drawn, the television was off and everything was quiet. He could hear his own heartbeat, balled his hands into fists and flexed his fingers as he reminded himself to breathe.

To inhale and to exhale. In through his nose. Out through his mouth. 

They could lose everything. Stiles could lose everything. He could lose every single person he'd grown to love, could watch them die, feel them wither away in the confines of steel and metal. He was burdened with the possibility of his friends drowning in the after-math of an unsuccessful mission.

A mission his best friend was about to take on without the slightest understanding of what he was getting himself into. A mission that they would be taking part in. The offense. The aggression. The un-relinquished anger- Stiles and Derek were the punishment. 

Stiles chewed absently on the inside of his cheek and curled further into himself beneath the sheets on his co-pilots bed, listened to the static that buzzed around his head and remembered what Erica said all those months ago, the words that left him confused in the wake of her victory.

I'm always scared

Stiles understood. God, he understood.

\------------------------------

"What if-" Allison dodged, ducked her head and twirled to try and swipe Derek off his feet with a kick of her leg, "this shit doesn't work?"

She panted and huffed when he jumped and aimed another punch at her chest which she blocked with both hands.

Derek shrugged, tilting his head to crack his neck, "We die."

Allison narrowed her eyes, "Derek!" 

"It's going to work," he groaned with a roll of his eyes, side-stepping when she lunged forward, "Lydia is too smart for it not to work."

The alpha flinched when his knees were knocked forward and Allison struck him hard across the face with a curled fist. It took them both by surprise and she ended up petrified with her hands clasped over her mouth, gasping and stumbling over an apology. She reached out to touch his face but Derek was too busy wincing, lips pulled down in a grimace.

"Oh my-" Allison flailed her arms and fell to her knees, containing the soft laughter that threatened to fall from her mouth, "-fuck, Der, I am so sorry, I thought, I mean-"

"Jesus, Ally," Derek seethed, reaching up to adjust his jaw, "I didn't think you were aiming for my fucking face," the ranger scoffed, chuckling when he saw the coy smile hidden behind her hand. 

The sound of the punching bag being beaten in the corner of the gymnasium mingled with weights dropping and sneakers against the treadmill. The alpha sighed quietly and rubbed his thumb along the line of his jaw before he stood up and reached over to nudge Allison with his hip. It was what they did, playfully hurt each other to lessen the blows from things that actually meant to wound them. Derek accepted Allison's blows and she felt powerful giving them, even as she stumbled over another apology and jutted her chin towards the door where Mako Mori walked in with Scott and Raleigh by her side.

Becket snorted a laugh, "You alright there, Hale?" he arched a brow and Derek rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine," he insisted bitterly, eyes swiping to the side to glare at Allison who was grinning, the tip of her tongue stuck between her teeth.

Scott was at her side in an instant, falling comfortably next to her with his arm wrapped over the curve of her waist, "Lydia hasn't slept in two days," he whispered against the lobe of her ear, keeping his words at a distance from the rest of them, "I think you need to go see her."

Allison's eyes fluttered like a feather towards her feet and Derek frowned when he saw her expression draw into something of fright and worry. He questioned her with a raise of his brow but only recieved a small wave in return as her and Scott walked off towards the doors and out into the hall.

Mako smoothed a hand over Derek's shoulder, "My wolf," she purred easily, "there's a war behind those eyes of yours." 

"Well," Derek sighed, lifting a shoulder as he moved to cross his arms over his chest, "we are going to war tomorrow so..." the warmth in his voice trailed off and the alpha watched his two mentors nod slowly. 

The acceptance was deafening and Derek wanted nothing more than to slam his fist against a wall, to dive into the metal bindings of Lionheart and run into battle. As foreign as it was to imagine, he almost wanted to go alone. To leave Stiles behind. To have something of value to give his life for, because in the end that was the price. Stiles and Derek would die and hopefully the rest of them could pick up the pieces. The rest of them could put everything back together, could put the world back together.  
But in the end that was the price. They were the price. 

"We've been at war," Raleigh shrugged as he tilted his head to the side, "this is just the game and proof of how quickly it can change." 

Something inside the alpha twisted and Derek gave a swift nod, "Have they successfully re-wired the Kaiju brain? I know they said it would take time but-"

"It should be done by this afternoon in the meantime..." Raleigh looked towards Mako who was watching her partner carefully, "relax, Hale. Just-" he shook his head, "take some time. Give your mom a call."

Derek had been thrown around, he'd tip-toed on the wire that hovered above death and when he plunged towards it, still managed to fall just shy of it. But this- this was beyond death. This was the revolution, the reinvented apocalypse.  
This was life and this was death and this was everything that lingered in-between.

He nodded, pliant and calm and Mako brushed her fingertips across his wrist before they walked away. 

Derek was always put together, always strong and always ready but as he lifted each foot and took long strides towards the exit of the gym, he recognized the storm thrashing just beneath his skin and wondered if it would be enough to cheat death one more time.

\------------------------------

"C'mere, hey! Stiles, don't, do not-" Erica's cheeks burned a furious red and the lines at the creases of each of her eyes crinkled up when she laughed. She was all open-mouthed grins and sharp hitched sounds that reminded Stiles of life and something floral. Her hair was curled up around her face and she was swatting at his hands when he prodded gently at her ribs.

Isaac heaved a sigh, eyes rolling as he reached into the metal cabinetry and pulled out a couple vials, "If you re-open your stitches I'll have to put off you getting into a restoration pod."

Erica swatted at Stiles who stuck his tongue between his teeth and moved back to stand next to her while she eyed him carefully from her wheel chair. Her recovery was going smoothly and each day was a gift as the wound on her abdomen started closing. The scar would be large, even with the technology they possessed to heal her- the remnants would still be visible and Erica was aware of that. 

It was something she never wished the speak about and everyone respected that. 

There was something about seeing her smile that brought Stiles back to earth, reminded him that there was far more to live for than he imagined. It wasn't just his friends, family, it wasn't just Derek- it was everyone. Every single person. The girl who sat behind him in English, his teachers, his old lacrosse coach in high school. They needed a hero and Stiles... Well, he swallowed painfully at the thought, Stiles wasn't a hero, but Lionheart was and when he was strapped in he gave her the strength to strangle the life out of this apocalypse.

"I'm gonna be okay, right? I'm gonna be able to fight again soon?" Erica, all bright eyes and a soft smile, looked up to Isaac as he pressed the syringe into her arm. 

Deep maple eyes stared at the floor and Stiles shifted in his old combat boots.

"Soon," Isaac assured, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

It was a lie and they all knew it, but Erica nodded quietly and looked down at her lap where bandages circled her abdomen underneath her shirt.

Stiles wanted to convince himself that he was brave enough to fight for her, he wanted to say he was brave enough to die for her.

His lungs were heavy, fingertips twitched and Stiles swallowed painfully because he wasn't ready for this and in the end he knew he wasn't going to be. He felt like a puppy who had been taught to swim for an hour in the shallow end and was suddenly tossed straight into the deep end- no harness, no life-jacket. Just swim or die. Swim or choke. Swim or everyone else drowns with you. 

"You okay?" Erica was smiling, he could hear it in her voice and when she reached over to poke him gently in the arm he nodded and looked down as Isaac slid the next needle into her arm.

"Yeah, I'm good- I'm fine," he stumbled over his words, reached up to press his index finger against his glasses and push them up on to the bridge of his nose, "just wanna make sure you get better."  
Isaac was eyeing him and Stiles' cheeks blotched under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

"I'll get better," the blonde mumbled, swatting him with the back of her hand, "the devil himself couldn’t kill me."

The devil himself tried.

Stiles smirked, "No, he couldn't," he agreed and scratched her head playfully.

Most of the young pilot wanted to jet back to his apartment, crawl into Derek's bed again and flip through one of his old books. He wanted to lock the doors, turn on music, open a window and just lay there. Lay there and wonder, day dream, come to terms. He wanted to call home, to tell his dad to go put flowers down at his mother's grave when he got the chance. He wanted to flip through one of his old text books, maybe have a drink with Danny and then steal Derek and keep him there until the alarms sounded and maybe even keep him there until someone came to find them.

Maybe they would just hide and the alarms wouldn't wake them, maybe they could start a new life and wipe away what the drift had done to them, wipe away the last five years.

Erica tugged on his wrist and when he looked down she was watching him, "You sure you're okay?" the woman tested, eyebrows pointing down as they narrowed.

"Yeah," Stiles sighed, licking over his lips.

She ran her fingers just shy of his palm and he offered something of a smile.

\------------------------------

Lydia's bare feet made no sound against the linoleum floor of the laboratory inside Shatterdome. She padded here and there, shook out her hand and hissed when her fingertips started to shake again. The beautiful milky skin she'd been graced with was ashy and worn; her eyes harbored deep bags of broken capillaries and stretched shadows. Her hair was tied back into a tight bun, a few strands hung around her face which she pushed behind her ears whenever they fell forward.

The lab was lit with harsh lights- different from the usual dim lit atmosphere she'd worked in prior, but a testament to how exhausted she was. The only reason for such blinding light would be to keep her steady and to keep her awake.

Coffee cups were stacked on her desk next to a half-eaten sandwich and she was chewing off the manicure she and Allison had went together to get not but a week ago. The red-head looked as hollow as she most certainly felt and when Allison pushed open the door to the lab the scientist nearly jumped out of her skin. 

"Jesus Christ!" Lydia clutched her chest where an overly-large sweatshirt draped over her shoulders, "Allison... God, you scared me," her eyes dropped to the ground before she swiveled her head back towards the cups on the end of her desk. She reached for the one still steaming and took a sip.

The brunette looked to Scott who nodded solemnly as they scanned across the lab and saw her work scattered around and stuffed into folders. 

Lydia glanced at them before waving her hand, gesturing for them to follow as she walked towards the back of the lab. What waited for them was an in-tact Kaiju brain hovering in a tank- wires were all bundled at its base and curved up to three helmets which were set neatly a-top three chairs. There was a laptop on a rolling desk accompanied with a keyboard in front of one and Allison tried to lift her jaw from where it gaped as she took in the sight before her.

The grey matter that floated so peacefully in the tube was a deep blue in color, sparking to life here and there when Lydia tapped on the glass, "This is Arcadia," she lifted a brow, "and he'll be drifting with Newt, Danny, and I tomorrow morning."  
Allison's throat started to close.

"Lydia," Scott whined softly, "are you sure this is a good idea, I mean-"

"It will work," she assured with a snap of her teeth, "I'm sure it will work."

"You need-" Allison heard her voice start to drown, "Lydia when is the last time you slept, c'mon, let's-"

"I'm perfectly fine," the red head hissed, "I don't need to sleep, I need to get prepared-"

"No, Lydia," Allison's voice rose, "if you're going to do this you need to rest, and you need to eat and you need to come with us. Come on, you can sleep at our place, just-"

"Allison!"

"Lydia!" Allison shouted back. 

Scott shied away behind Allison, shaking his head, teeth imbedded in his bottom lip before he finally pushed hand on his girlfriend’s chest and nodded to Lydia, "Our door will be open."

The combat specialist jerked away from Scott who growled under his breath and reached for her hand again. Lydia moved away from the both of them, grabbed her tablet and started flicking through screens. Her usually green eyes were dull and red, lashes all clumped together. She looked like wreckage after a storm, like delicate cargo that hadn't been properly taken care of. Lydia Martin looked like devastation and she looked like mortality. 

Allison batted at Scott's hand, huffing and puffing as he tried to drag her away until she finally planted her feet in the door way and shrugged him off.

"Fine," the brunette bit under her breath as she walked back over to the desk and plopped down into a rolling chair. She slid herself next to Lydia who was making a point not to look up from her work, "I'll stay here then. With you."

Silence followed, only the click of Lydia's chewed up nails on her tablet bounced off the walls. Scott stood in the door way, arms crossed over his chest and Allison let Lydia have her silence. She let her sit in it comfortably and watched, brown eyes soft and vulnerable under the fan of her lashes, before finally reaching up to curl her fingers around the top of Lydia's hand.

Green eyes blinked away, focused on Allison's shoes and her tight black sweat pants. Lydia's breathing faltered and Allison didn't say a word when she watched her friends eyes brim with uninvited tears.

"They're-" Lydia cleared her throat, swiping across the tablet again, "They're serving salmon today, aren't they?" Her voice was silky and tired, words like feathers falling from nude lips.

"Yeah, they are," Allison answered, thumb rubbing circles just below Lydia's middle finger.

"Scott, would you mind grabbing us some lunch?" Lydia didn't lift her eyes, she didn't push Allison away and Scott nodded swiftly and said 'yes' before asking Allison with a questioning glance if it was alright for him to go.

When the brunette tossed a nod over her shoulder Scott took his leave and Lydia asked Allison not to move her hand as they waited. 

\------------------------------

It was towards the afternoon when Stiles found Derek standing at Lionheart’s boots, gazing up at her with his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans. He had on a deep violet long sleeve shirt and Stiles could see the way his eyes danced around the Jaeger from his place in the door way. 

The day hadn’t gone by as quickly as Stiles presumed it would. Time didn’t seem to speed up and pass them by but instead seemed to grant them something of a break. Stiles coaxed himself out of Derek’s bed shortly after his outburst over breakfast with Danny; he visited briefly with Erica, ran on the treadmill while he listened to The 1975 and even managed to call his father. That alone had been enough for him to want to cash in- to call it a day, to maybe just disappear. 

He felt the raw spot just below his trachea start to clench again and brushed the memory away. The way the sheriff’s voice shook, he told Stiles how proud he was of him and how proud his mother would have been. It was surprising how even Stiles’ voice had managed to stay throughout the conversation, how strong he’d made himself seem to the voice on the other end of the phone. To his father who so gently asked him to be careful, like Stiles was flying too high on the swings, or being too reckless on the lacrosse field. He’d told him he loved him, said in that rough voice worn by bourbon and years of cigarettes, ‘kick some ass, kid’ and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh even after the line went quiet.

Deep molten eyes watched Derek sway on the balls of his feet, watched him tilt his head and heave a gust of air out of his lungs. He really was something to look at- besides the drift, besides their ‘bond’, far beyond the Kaiju or their shared memories, Derek Hale was just beautiful. 

Stiles didn’t mind crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame, he didn’t mind letting his glasses fall to the tip of his nose and shifting to make his boots squeak against the polished floor. 

Derek just stood there with his hands in his pockets gazing at Lionheart and Stiles wondered what it was he was pondering. Was he scared? Was he nervous or confused or was he just gazing to gaze? The young ranger rested the side of his head against the door frame and tried to remember how he felt coming into this. How he felt meeting Raleigh, the way he punched the air right out of Stiles’ chest. He thought of Isaac and his strange mannerisms, of Allison and her arms that wrapped around him like a safety blanket, of her intensity and how thankful he was for every one of her five-thirty work outs. He thought of Scott, who he trusted with secrets only known in the pits of himself, the things that crawled up out of him during nights filled with rice wine and that blueberry beer he bought down town. There was Erica, and there was Boyd, guardians that sacrificed so much, and Lydia… A woman whose strength baffled him and brought tears to his eyes due to the memories now stored in his head from the man he still watched so carefully out on the floor of the hangar. 

The man that hollowed Stiles out and replaced him with burning coals, his co-pilot who completed the parts of him that were so unwilling to be compromised even in the eyes of destruction. Derek didn’t know how strange he was, how completely foreign he was to Stiles in the beginning and even now- as Stiles watched him reach up to run his fingers through his hair, watched him close his eyes and nod like he had been having a conversation with himself all this time, how completely enthralled Stiles was with him. He looked like shards of glass bathed in sunlight, felt like frost bite and the sting of a cold spring morning- he wasn’t just a star, he was a fucking galaxy, a star nursery; he was Eos, and he was Nova, and he was everything in between that Stiles didn’t understand but read so perfectly like a language he’d learned over time. 

He was beautiful and he was terrifying.

Forest eyes blinked when Derek turned his head to catch Stiles watching him, “What?” he practically barked across the hangar, eyebrows raised and lips pursed into a thin aggravated line. 

“Nothing,” Stiles answered as he picked his feet up and walked forward to join his co-pilot, eyes turned up to trail across their Jaeger, “I was just watching you.”

“Watching me?” Derek purred under his breath, “Why exactly were you watching me?” 

A coy smile tugged at the corners of Stiles lips and he pushed his glasses up on to the bridge of his nose, “I wanted to look at you.” 

Hale snorted on a laugh and rolled his eyes, reached over to tap his fingers on Stiles’ waist, “You gonna be okay for-“

“Let’s not,” Stiles sighed, head tilting to the side before he looked over to Derek, “let’s not talk about how okay we both are going to lie about being and just go into town and get something to eat.”

Derek was quiet for a minute, eyes searching Stiles for some kind of weak spot, the crack where he would find the small boy who was scared of a Kaiju blue injection hiding. But there was nothing- just the blink of big doe eyes and a small inhale through his nose, exhale through his mouth.

“Seafood?” Derek murmured, voice hardly above a whisper as he coaxed his thumb into the belt loop on the front of Stiles’ jeans.

\------------------------------

“Hey! Hey!” Newton was scrambling around the lab, a cup of cold coffee in one hand, his cell phone in the other which he had pressed to his ear, “Lydia said all that’s left is the basic intelligence. We’ve already cloned the DNA structure now we’re using the- yes, yes! I said yes!”

The scientist sighed loudly before he pulled the phone from his ear and talked into the speaker, “Danny, I need you here, like two hours ago, like right now, right fucking-“ his voice strained but he ended up whining and twirling in a circle before practically falling into a chair, “Lydia is asleep but if this shit isn’t finished by tonight then we all get blown to fucking bits so now, Danny, yes, now!”

It didn’t take long for Danny to come stumbling in to the lab with his own cup of coffee and a few books stacked under his arm, “Okay, so I think I-“

“You’re here!” Newt squawked, jabbing his index finger in Danny’s general direction while Hermann massaged his temples with his index and middle finger, “Good, okay! So, we’ve cloned the entirety of the brain and we have the stem-cell regenerative Kaiju blue on hand so where exactly… I mean, what exactly do we do?” 

Danny set his books down and shrugged, “We re-wire the brain and then tomorrow when we drift with it we’ll be able to influence the blank slate left behind.”

Hermann jotted down a few calculations on a note pad, “What will you be using to stimulate the effects of a ‘blank slate’ as you like to call it? I mean, is there a way to re-wire something, to wipe an entire race clean of its instincts?”

“Electric pulses into the hippocampus and the putamen will allow for a small window into the amygdala, as soon as we get a couple good shocks in we can basically lobotomize the brain and then insert the new stem-cells. Once the stem-cells are in place we drift and…” Danny shrugged.

Newt was blinking at him, all wide eyes and parted lips, “And…? And what? And?”

Danny lifted his shoulder, showing his palms in mock surrender, “And we hope it works?”

Hermann’s eyes closed before he re-opened them to stare at the ceiling, a string of curses falling over his lips as Newt nodded, one eyebrow arched while he stared at Danny who drank his coffee and looked to Arcadia who sat floating in his tube towards the back of the room. There was some kind of uncertainty shared between the three of them, a risk that reminded Hermann and Newt of the fiasco they got themselves into for drifting with a Kaiju all those years ago and the price they would pay for doing it a second time. There was pity, a bit of remorse from the scientists to Danny who was all bright ideas and blossoming life, all potential and calculations. He wasn’t force, he wasn’t manipulation and Newt wished he had the heart to explain to him how truly ready the boy wasn’t.

They spent the early afternoon watching Danny work, helped him set up the electrical waves and gave the brain a few good jolts of electricity before he could actually reach the amygdala where they set in with a hollow needle and attempted to wipe clean the data strewn together inside. There was no way to clearly see if it worked or if it didn’t, but the neural activity was still strong, only wavering when the shocks made contact. It twitched, shook inside the tube and when the procedure was done the three men all stood around the tube and stared.

Wide eyes blinked, Hermann wondered whether or not any of this would even work, Newt thought of ideas for cloning, on replication of the creatures themselves while Danny only prayed that tomorrow would bring success.  
“When did Lydia say she’d be down-“

“She won’t,” Hermann interjected and glanced at Danny who tilted his head curiously, “she needs to rest and so do both of you if you’re expecting a strong enough drift with these… things-“

“They’re Kaiju-“

“Oh, shut up Newt- as I was saying, you both should eat and sleep. We have nothing else to get done until tomorrow when the clock says it’s time.”

Newt twiddled his thumbs and Danny nodded even as his eyes stayed put on the oversized brain hovering in the center of the test tube. Hermann was the first to pull at Newt’s sleeve and demand he sleep, Danny only left moments after before he pulled out his phone and sent a message.

**To: Stiles Stilinski**  
 **From: Danny Mahealani December 4, 2031, 4:09 P.M**

Can we talk? For real this time

\------------------------------

Stiles’ phone buzzed in his pocket as he sat on the deck of a homey little restaurant on the outskirts of Hong Kong. Derek was across from him, sipping something dark out of a wine glass, a plate decorated with a swordfish fillet and some kind of sour soup sat between them. When he glanced down he breathed out a sharp exhale and felt Derek’s curiosity as he strained to glance over the table to peek at his phone.

“You’re always doing that,” Stiles purred calmly, “it’s Danny, relax.”

“I am relaxed,” Derek chirped, “I’m just curious. Is everything okay between the two of you?”

Stiles stiffened almost immediately and he could feel the anxiety start to swarm around his stomach. There wasn’t a proper way to describe how he felt on the subject, how the entirety of what was about to happen could change the course of time and life for every single person he had ever come into contact with. How every single person he had come into contact with didn’t matter a quarter as much as Danny did and now not only was his best friend taking part in a war that might not be won, but he was being used as a strategy.

The younger ranger shook his head, reached out and dug his fork into the swordfish steak before taking a bite, “My best friend is a weapon, so no, everything really isn’t okay between the two of us.”

Derek took a sip off the glass in his hand, “He’s not the weapon, we are-“

“You know what I mean,” Stiles groaned with a roll of his eyes, “I didn’t want him to be a part of this at all, I wanted him safe, I wanted him back home.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Derek added carefully, “Nobody is really safe.”

Stiles’ lungs burned, his stomach clenched and he felt his jaw tighten because as much as he wanted to fight Derek on the subject there really was no use. He was right. No one was truly safe and this option was there only option but… What happened when Danny didn’t make it? What happened when Newt, or- 

“What happens when Lydia dies, Derek?” the words slid out from under Stiles’ tongue and once they breached the air he immediately regretted them. His co-pilot’s nostrils flared and Stiles watched the hollow of his cheek deflate where he clenched his jaw over and over again.

“Weren’t we not supposed to talk about this?” the alpha asked, words sharp as they sliced through the air between them.

It was silent after that, the soft crash of waves could be heard at a distance on the beach and the city streets were crowded with people. Hong Kong was lit like it was every night of the year, neon lights flashed bright over tall buildings, ships decorated in bulbs of muti-colored fluorescents floated in the harbor and Stiles watched over the edge of the balcony where they sat. He watched the people below hurry this way and that, watched them live out their lives in the hopes that something wouldn’t crawl its way out of hell and punish them for their sins. Watched them hope that when the Kaiju did surface their knights in magnificent suits of armor would come to their rescue. Would abolish the end of humanity and call re-claim their planet.

Warm fingertips played absently on the tops of Stiles’ hand and he looked at Derek over the rim of his glasses. His co-pilot blinked, traced his finger along the bony knuckles that Stiles was rather embarrassed about and took a steady breath in through his nose before he exhaled through his mouth. It was strange how the two men adopted each other’s mannerisms over their time spent in drift and together, strange how Stiles felt the need to bump his foot against the alpha’s under the table. 

“My mom wants to meet you, but I know you probably want to see your dad for Christmas.”

The statement took Stiles off-guard and at first he narrowed his eyes, flicked his eyes from Derek’s chest back to his face where a patient expression greeted him. He hadn’t even taken the time to think about holidays. They missed Halloween, he gave his dad a call on Thanksgiving but never really thought it to be a priority to even acknowledge them. Holidays and traditions he used to love had lost their luster during his short time at Shatterdome but as he looked at Derek from across the table all he could imagine was both of them sitting by the fire in California drinking Bailey’s with his dad. He could almost taste the way it would feel to be at ease. 

Stiles swallowed painfully, took a sip off his drink and nodded, “We can do Christmas with my dad and New Years with your mom? I’d like to meet your sister too.” 

The way Derek’s face softened and how his shoulders relaxed was enough for Stiles to play along. It was enough to allow himself the pleasure of imagining their life post-war, something they may never see, a future that neither of them were guaranteed but a future all the same. 

Derek gave his hand a squeeze, “I’m sure we can do that. Talia- my mother, she bakes these pies in winter, brown sugar and apricot,” the ranger’s lips curved up, twitched into a smile, “they’re amazing.”

“My dad always makes some kind of bird,” Stiles laughed around the words, “whether it’s turkey or chicken or pheasant, he always insists we have a bird.” 

Derek turned his head, looked over the banister to the sea and Stiles did the same. He felt Derek’s fingers curl around his hand and rubbed his thumb across the alpha’s wrist, inhaled and exhaled, enjoyed the thought of a future that were probably never going to have. But he enjoyed it none-the-less. He enjoyed day-dreaming about Derek back in Oregon coaching soccer at his old high school, enjoyed the idea of Stiles working as a professor in the junior college nearby. They’d have an old house that needed just as much work as they did, a project they could put their mind to and fix up just the way they pleased. Stiles might grow some flowers; Derek might take some cooking classes on their down time. 

It would be mundane and it would be theirs and it would be life. 

Meaningful and simple.

\------------------------------

Derek pressed his lips against Stiles’ temple when they pulled up at Shatterdome and Stiles felt a jolt in his stomach like kitchen clattering against a clean tile floor.  
This was finality.

“Go on,” Derek was all warm words and gentle touches, “Go talk to him.” 

Stiles wanted to shake his head, wanted to ball up his hands and insist that they just go back to the apartment and hide until tomorrow, but that couldn’t be his escape anymore and he knew that. This was war. This was it. This was the end. 

There was a strength hidden behind his own eyes that Stiles never knew he could ignite until he met the man standing before him, a strength that re-defined him. He was not a coward and he would not hide. Stiles squeezed his shaking hands into fists before un-curling them and nodding, turning his head to capture Derek’s lips in his own. 

“Go,” Derek chuckled playfully when Stiles smiled against his mouth.

Stiles watched him walk away, watched Derek take those long strides towards their apartment and watched him open his phone and press it to his ear. His coat hit his knees, dark charcoal grey and Stiles felt his stomach give another pull when his partner turned the corner and was out of his sight. 

He could feel anxiety rising into his throat when he walked in through the side door and on to the hangar floor. The Jaegers were priority one for Shatterdome and Stiles watched the engineers work as he walked by, watched them yell to one another, tighten bolts and test the weapons units. His boots shifted and he let out a shaky breath as he glanced over to Gypsy Danger who was also being prepped for tomorrow. New plasma guns were being installed into her forearms, blasters in her wrists were being rotated and Stiles couldn’t help but feel the weight of their actions already piling on his shoulders.

It took a minute before Stiles forced himself away from the Jaeger’s and into the cafeteria, a moment of concentration as he found Danny sitting with a book in his hands and a cup of tea on the table top in front of him before he found the will to walk forward.  


“Not a coward,” he reminded himself quietly as he weaved through the metal tables.

Stiles cleared his throat before he sat down next to Danny and he didn’t bother trying to make anything formal, didn’t care to try and come up with some kind of speech or explanation. Instead he folded his arms on the table top and rested his head on them, peeked up at his friend and huffed, “I’m terrified,” he confessed through a soft whine, “and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Danny’s smile was small and confident, “I know,” it was all he said before he pushed the cup of tea towards Stiles, “it’s maple green tea, have some.”

Stiles sat up, pushed his glassed up and took a sip, “It’s good,” he raised a brow and watched Danny smile back at him. That same smile he always wore, the one that told him ‘it’s okay we’ve all hooked up with someone at a frat party’ or ‘it’s okay tequila does shit to people’ the same smile that said ‘I know you miss your mom but I’m here’. 

“You’re my best friend,” Danny spoke clear and firm, “and we’re going to get this shit done together.”

Dark espresso eyes blinked and Stiles nodded, “Yeah…” he paused and bit down on the inside of his cheek, “we are.” 

Stiles’ fear had melted into nerves, made the panic he normally felt building at the base of his spine start to vibrate across the rest of his body, but it didn’t matter. None of that mattered. What was important was his ability to conquer, his drive to fight, to protect, to live.

Danny’s hand came up to his shoulder, pulled on him until he was wrapped in a tight embrace. Stiles pressed his palm against the top of his friends back and took in a shaky breath, gave a curt nod when Danny flicked his eyebrows up. He didn’t ask Stiles if he was alright because there was no point, it was obvious as the day as long how dismantled Stiles was, but the hacker grabbed his book and his tea, gestured to the apartments and sighed.

“I need to get some sleep before tomorrow, everything is all set to go,” he watched Stiles’ eyes fall to the floor.

This was real. This was happening.

“You should too,” Danny added, “C’mon, I’ll walk with you.”

Stiles didn’t protest he just followed beside him until they came to the lobby, “See you tomorrow?” Danny inquired through the curl of a playful smile.

“Y-yeah- yes,” Stiles stumbled over his words as he heard the elevator door open and he tried to smile when Danny got inside and pressed a button on the left but nothing came. His mouth fell slack and he felt his chest constrict, felt his stomach flip. 

The doors closed and Stiles breathed.

Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Stiles picked up his feet, made them move down the hall and shook out his trembling hand enough to unlock the door to the apartment. 

Derek’s coat was slung over one of the tall chairs at the bar and the light in the kitchen was on. He shrugged his own jacket off, kicked his boots off and tried to steady his breathing, closed his eyes, counted to ten and walked down the hall where the double doors leading into his co-pilots room were ajar. 

“Hey,” Derek greeted, eyes glued to the pages of a book as he sat in his bed, one knee pulled up, the other lying flat. Stiles inhaled a broken breath, swallowed as he tugged at the hem of his shirt before he tossed it to the ground next to the bed. Derek’s eyes crawled over him, paused in certain places where shallow scars still decorated his flesh, where his ribs had been broken and his hips shattered. Strong hands reached for him when Stiles found his way to the edge of the bed, when he crawled over Derek and took the book from his hands. 

Calloused fingertips plucked Stiles’ glasses off his nose, set them down on top of the book on the night stand, “Come here.”

Stiles didn’t take his time in leaning down to kiss him, but instead crushed their lips together, pressed down and indulged in the way Derek fought with his mouth and his tongue and his teeth. He let himself lose control, let himself fall into his co-pilot, into Derek Hale and didn’t think about whether they would make it through the morning to follow. He sighed between their parted lips, slid his hand up to curve around Derek’s jaw and didn’t protest when the alpha pushed at his hips. 

When Stiles’ back hit the comforter he hissed and pulled Derek back down into his space, cursed and gasped when teeth were imbedded into his throat. 

Stiles pulled his nails down Derek’s back.

Derek bit the chorus of a love song into Stiles’ chest.

They didn’t undress each other slowly or lovingly, no, Derek tossed his shirt away and Stiles kicked his pants off. They pawed and clawed at each other, whined and whimpered. It wasn’t beautiful but it was stunning and it didn’t mean ‘we have time’ it meant ‘this is it’ and something about that reminded Stiles of just how excruciating the love between them was. The man who ran his hands down Stiles’ sides and pushed his thumbs into the hollows of his hips was not his star crossed lover. 

“Fuck,” Stiles cursed when strong hips pushed down between his legs.

Derek was not his muse; he was not his thrilling romance. 

Derek was just his. 

He was the permanence that love tended to lack; he was the unsteady ground that love shied away from. 

Derek pressed the future they may never have into Stiles’ throat and he bit the words of their unfinished story into his sides. 

When Derek said ‘I love you’ Stiles said it back and he reached up to run his fingertips through Derek’s hair, let his hands slide over his shoulders and down the length of his arms. He took the time to memorize each scar that told a story he had seen in Derek’s memories, pressed his lips against each one and listened to the way Derek tried not to hold his breath.

“Even in the dark you’re blinding,” Stiles whispered, watching as Derek lifted his head and looked down at him, bumped his nose against the curve of Stiles’ cheek.

It was strange to come to the understanding that Derek Hale had set fire to Stiles all those months ago and that he had been burning ever since. 

\------------------------------

“What’re we gonna do?” Allison watched Lydia from the couch in her apartment. 

The red-head was holding a cup of coffee in her hands. She had slept for a few hours, rested, prepared. Her makeup was done, lashes coated in Christian Dior mascara, lips perfectly lined in a deep red liner. Her hair was curled, hung down over her shoulders and she swept it up with her hand to tie it back into a pony tail.

There was a knock on the door and Scott opened it to find Isaac standing with his hands in the pockets of his white coat.

Bright green eyes blinked up and settled on the doctor, watched him take in a steady breath.

“We’re gonna do what we have to do,” Lydia answered before she set the cup down and stood, a dark red dress wrapped tight around her torso, falling to just above her knees, “and we’re gonna give them hell.”

\------------------------------

I am so sorry that these chapters are taking so long x__x I'm swamped at work 

But, this is it, the next chapter will be the conclusion along with a short epilogue :D I can't believe it's almost finished, I'm so attached to it haha but anyways, thank you guys for reading, I love you all and your comments always bring a smile to my face! 

Come say hey I'm on [tumblr](http://www.lion--ness.tumblr.com)


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Time was a burden. It always had been, really- a misconstrued concept that tied happiness to the idea that when a moment passed it would be gone. Every little bit of it would soon become something that instead of being tangible, would be stitched into memories and pressed behind the eyes of people who stretched everyday just to reach back and get their fingertips on a piece of them. A fragment of their life- a first kiss after a date to the pumpkin patch, a sunrise witnessed on the roof top of a lover’s house on a crisp morning in November, a loss and how it tore through the atmosphere and left scars on ghosts who adopted their name. 

Time was an inevitable burden and Stiles wanted to shake it off his shoulders and watch it tick, watch it tock- watch it pass him by and stay wrapped in the worm hole that was Derek's bed. 

The sliding glass door was shut but the window was open and the breeze that whispered through dusted over Stiles' back, coaxed goose bumps to rise along the knobs of his spine. The blinds rustled quietly, skin slid against the bed sheets and the beta felt his co-pilot stir in the early morning hours. Time was a burden and Stiles didn't know whether he should thank the rising sun for turning Hong Kong's sky into an array of deep blues and bright ceruleans or if he should curse it for striding by him so casually. 

Derek's hands were a mystery to Stiles, how brutal they could be when he curled his fingers into fists and how tender they felt smoothing over the hollow of his hip, "Have you ever seen the sun rise in Oregon?" 

The alpha's voice was rough and warm, mumbled into the pillow next to Stiles' face. Maple eyes lifted and Stiles shook his head, "No, have you ever seen the sun set in California?" 

Derek blinked, "I always wanted to," he confessed, rising up to swing a leg over Stiles' hips and bracket his arms around his co-pilots face. 

Stiles wanted to say it'd been a long night, he wanted his eyes to be heavy and his body to be relaxed and he wanted to be able to fall asleep while the sun rose. But instead his mind was nervous and he watched Derek lean down, exhaled when he felt the scrape of coarse hair along the slope of his jaw. 

War.

He'd read so many stories that started or ended with the feelings surrounding battle, with the emotions that were so palpable in the moments before heading off to defend those who could not defend themselves- to protect those who could not protect themselves, and none of them had prepared him for the nothing that so loudly filled his body. It was like static. A deafening silence. And Stiles didn't know if he could bare the sound.

A breath shook it’s way into his lungs and long fingers felt along the ridges of Derek's shoulders, "It's, uh," Stiles swallowed and paused when his co-pilot's nose brushed against his own, "it's really fucking pretty," he confessed, "especially over the- the beach, the sky'll turn orange and purple," Stiles glanced up at Derek when he nodded, "I wish I could have shown you-"

There wasn't any hurry in the way that the alpha dipped down and occupied Stiles' mouth with his lips, took them in his own and hummed softly. 

Derek mumbled 'you'll show me' against the swell of Stiles' bottom lip and all the young ranger did was nod in agreement before careful fingers carded into Derek's hair and his hips bowed up to meet the slow press of Derek's waist between them.  
The light that fell in through the window hit the carpet and Derek didn't stop moving his lips, it warmed and it reminded and it stretched until the pale yellow that graced the carpet slid up to fan out over the edge of the bed, across the back of Derek's calf and the arch of Stiles' foot.

The alpha made it easy to get lost in him. He made it easy for Stiles to reach up and cup the angle of his jaw, made it easy for him to part his lips and pretend that they could fall asleep and wake up somewhere else besides Hong Kong. That they could seal the promise of a real date and a real anything in a far off place where Kaiju couldn't claw their way in.

But the alarm went off when the sun landed on the ink between Derek's shoulder blades and the sound woke whatever was hiding behind the silence in Stiles' mind- it shattered him back into existence and he felt the spark of sudden resistance flash in his stomach. That alarm, quiet and calm on the night stand next to Derek's bed, was the loudest thing that Stiles had heard since he first drifted. It buzzed, clicked, hummed and then familiar words flashed across the screen-

**Pilots Report To Drivesuit Room Immediately**

**Prepare For Departure**

Derek felt Stiles start to tremble and when he drew back there were two hands clasping on either side of his face and the beta gasped, shook his head and pulled Derek back down, "No-" Stiles pressed the word against Derek's lips, "N-no," he stammered again when his co-pilot opened his eyes.

The marrow in his bones was lit like gasoline and his stomach twisted into knots as Stiles listened to Derek take in a deep breath, listened to him inhale through his nose and felt him exhale a warm breath across his chin, "Stiles," the veteran tested, but the younger ranger shook his head and bucked up to wrap his legs securely around Derek's waist.

"Stiles, c'mon-" Derek's words were cut short and he hummed, pressed down into Stiles' mouth and tried to ignore the sound of the alarm going off. Ignored the way it vibrated so he could focus on just how warm the body beneath him was- how Stiles tilted his head to the side and how his hands ran up to grip into the dark locks on Derek's head.

It was incomplete- everything. Everything was incomplete and nothing was finished and Stiles didn't have the heart or the breath or the courage to admit that. He didn't have it in him to accept the defeat of finality and he most certainly was not in the mind set to understand that once they got out of this bed, it started. The end. The beginning. They didn't know which but the clock would start ticking and Stiles would die trying to catch the time as it flew by. The silence that occupied the majority of him through the night- through the two hands that branded him with permanence and immposibilty, through the burn of Derek's unshaven cheek rasping across his thighs and his stomach and his throat, through the silence that was so easily shaken apart by a clock on the night stand- found itself screaming protests against the insides of Stiles' ribcage.

Bright green eyes peered at Stiles from under the shade of his lashes and Derek swallowed when they finally paused to catch their breath, when Stiles let his hands smooth down to the sides of the alpha's throat and stroke the pads of his thumbs over his jaw.  


"We're gonna be okay," Derek almost choked on the words and Stiles almost winced away from them, but he tried to nod instead.

There was another sigh before Stiles leaned up and waited for Derek to close the gap, to swallow down another long fluid kiss and run his hand like satin up over Stiles' hip and on to his side, "We're gonna be okay," he repeated, all warm words as he pressed his nose into Stiles' cheek.

Stiles' hands smoothed down Derek's back and he didn't answer, just nodded and closed his eyes when he felt them start to burn.

\------------------------------

The water in the shower was hot and it seared across Stiles' shoulders, dripped down his back and over his kneecaps which wouldn't stop twitching and shaking. 

"I should call my dad," Stiles whispered absently to himself, ran his fingers up through his hair and rested his other arm against the wall of the shower. It was one of the many thoughts that made themselves present in the waves that toppled against the cliffside of his mind and as quickly as it came, it went. He should call his dad, should take a picture of Derek with his phone just so that it's there- so that it's real when everything comes crashing down. He should leave a note on the counter, not that it would say anything important but he felt like leaving something behind, even if it was his handwriting- it would be worth it. 

But in the end he just turned off the shower and walked out into his room, grabbed the picture off his night stand and studied his mother’s face. She'd been so young and her hair was falling in her eyes, she had an upturned nose and Stiles reached up to touch his own as he looked down at the candid shot, traced along the places where her moles and freckles were and found some of his own in the same place. 

The picture frame hit the soft cushion of his comforter and Stiles glanced over his shoulder as he pulled a shirt over his head. Derek was there in the doorway with his boots laced and his jacket on, arms folded over his chest. There was something dangerous about him that Stiles would never be able to understand, perhaps the way he held himself or how tightly pursed his lips were, maybe it was in his strength, in his charisma. Stiles wouldn't ever know, but he turned and watched Derek, studied the man like he'd studied him through the window back in August and held his breath.

Derek had never stopped being beautiful.

Stiles’ jaw clenched and he blinked when his eyes dropped to the floor, "We need to get going," the words fell out of him in a breath and his legs moved unconsciously towards the door. It was Derek's arm that stopped him, stretched out, palm pressed against his chest. He didn't move, just swayed forward and closed his eyes, tried to stop the ache in his ribs and the tremor in his hands. Everything was stop and go. Sudden momentum and then drawing closure, minimal resistance and then extreme breaks. The place where he felt safe- the place deep inside himself that always chanted 'not a coward', the voice that reminded Stiles of his existence didn't even brave the silence that swelled in the apartment.

The broad hand splayed across Stiles' chest twitched, Derek's fingertips slid up and he stroked his thumb across the sharp angle of the beta's collarbone. 

Stiles felt the runaway beat of his heart.

Derek didn't need to say 'look at me' he didn't need to offer up something profound, he just sighed and brushed the pad of his thumb up over Stiles' jaw and across his bottom lip.

"C'mon," Stiles turned away, reached up to touch Derek's wrist, "We gotta go."

Derek's jaw clenched, he parted his lips and Stiles could hear the sharp inhale of words that his co-pilot chose to keep to himself almost come to life. But there was silence instead.

Stiles didn't take his time lacing up his boots and when his phone rang he didn't bother looking at who it was, just answered with a snap of his teeth, "This is Stiles," he bit.

It was Allison on the other end and the young pilot handed the phone to Derek before he shrugged the brown leather jacket to match his partners.

"Tell her we're coming," Stiles' words were like cut glass but green eyes just bore back into him and Derek didn't hesitate to lift up the phone and do what he was asked. 

\------------------------------

Shatterdome was quiet. It was quieter than it had been since the first day that Stiles was dropped off and met by Raleigh in the parking lot, since he was walked through the hangars and introduced to Isaac, since a needle was slid into his arm and he was pumped with synthetic Kaiju blue. Everything about Shatterdome- about the Pan Pacific Defense Corps was quiet.

The uneven flutter of his heart left his throat dry and his tongue heavy in his mouth, swiping nervously across his teeth before he sucked the hollow of his cheek in to chew on. His footsteps were stomped into the ground, shoulders squared, eyes set forward. This was it and he had to be strong. 

This was it and Stiles had to understand that.

Tremors shook the bones in his fingers, made his knuckles rattle and his wrists vibrate. His knees bent with every step, popped and protested as Stiles trudged along, eyes blinking over the rim of his glasses, chest constricting, stomach clenching, breath caught and-

"Stop," Derek's voice came thundering through him and Stiles hissed when a strong hand wrapped over his shoulder and twisted him around.

Deep green eyes glared at him and Derek's brows knitted together in the center of his brow, "Stiles-" 

"What?" the young ranger snapped and he wanted to wince at how hard his teeth clanked together.

"It's just another mission, we're going to get through it just like we do every other time. We're gonna go get in our Jaeger and protect the people we love, we're-"

Stiles' eyes rolled up towards the sky and he scoffed, shoulders shaking with a forced laugh, "We're gonna die, Der-"

Derek had never hit him.

Not on purpose.

Not like this.

But a swift strike to Stiles' right cheek sent his ears buzzing and jaw slack. There was pain shooting into his eye, through his temple and down the back of his neck. It took a minute, a minute to let his foot fall back, to catch himself and stare at the concrete. To process. To feel it. It hurt. It throbbed to the right of his chin and he opened his mouth, slid his jaw from side to side and let his now very steady fingers move up to adjust his glasses. 

His nostrils flared and Stiles inhaled a sharp breath, "Did you just hit me?" 

The words were chewed up, came out dripping with anger and soaked in complete disbelief but Derek just stared at him when Stiles finally lifted his eyes- he stared and his upper lip quivered and his eyes stayed narrowed on point, fingers curled into fists.  


Stiles' cheeks were frosted and he bit down on his bottom lip, heart hammering against his chest, "Derek, did you just fucking hit me!" 

The alpha took a step back when Stiles lunged forward, he spun to the side and caught his co-pilot by the arm, shoved him backwards when he cursed and tried to sweep his feet out from under him. It felt like a solid bag of bricks had slammed into Stiles' chest and he gasped, choked to try and catch his breath when the wind was knocked out of him and his back hit the wall outside the hangar. 

Derek was there, crowding into his space with his hand wrapped around Stiles' jaw, "Listen to me, kid-"

"Don't call me that," Stiles spat, throwing an elbow into Derek's side. The alpha winced but just pressed forward, thumb nail digging into the soft skin just below Stiles' ear.

"Stiles," Derek seethed, reached out and grasped his wrist, pinned it against the wall and said his name again, "Stiles," like he was trying to calm down a rabid animal. Like he was trying to sedate him. Like he was trying to soothe him.

And Stiles couldn't.

He just couldn't.

Stiles squirmed, writhed, tried to push off the wall, "Get off," he pushed the words out and they sounded just as forced as he had made them. But Derek didn't move, he just loosened his grip on Stiles' wrist and placed his fingers between the slots of his co-pilots hand, gripped and took in a deep breath.

"Get off," Stiles choked again, softer, more pliant as Derek held his face in his hand and tried to breathe. The alpha's hold on him loosened, his hips dipped forward and Stiles wanted to hide inside him. Wanted to leap into the place between Derek's shoulders where ink spelled out his childhood and nothing could get to him except memories and the idea of something beyond what was to come. Something beyond what they were about to get themselves into.

Derek huffed, "I'm not letting you go," he stated through a frustrated puff of air and all Stiles could feel was the wash of relief suddenly bathing his bones. 

The tremble in his chest wouldn't subside and Stiles didn't tug himself away when Derek reached up and fixed his glasses which were sitting crooked on his nose. Stiles blinked through damp lashes, inhaled and exhaled, winced when he felt the throbbing start to swarm to the underside of his jaw.

He winced when Derek's thumb pressed against it, turned his head away and eyed his co-pilot bitterly.

"I'm sorry," the alpha mumbled through the roll of his eyes, "but you were acting like a fucking grenade, I didn't know-"

"So your bright idea was to hit me?" Stiles snapped, giving another squirm only to have his body silenced by the steady hold of Derek's torso against his own. 

The sharp line of Derek’s jaw clenched and he huffed, warm breath passing across Stiles' cheek, "I'm sorry," he sighed, giving Stiles' hand a small squeeze before he leaned down to rest his forehead in the dip of his co-pilots shoulder.

Stiles was catching his breath, staring out over the horizon where the sun was being dragged into the center of the sky. The day was crisp, a breeze ghosting over the grounds, lifting spare leaves here, tossing dust there- the day was silent and Stiles wanted nothing more than to scream his protests. His tongue darted out to swipe across the pillow of his bottom lip and he breathed steady and soft with Derek's weight against him and the wall behind him, settled himself there and wondered if this was how it felt to greet death with his eyes open. To stare her in the face and reach out to shake her hand.

The alpha huffed another sigh and drew back, earning a glare of narrowed eyes staring back at him from behind Stiles' glasses. 

The older pilot scoffed, "What? Do you wanna hit me so we're eve-"

A curled fist hit just above Derek's jaw and he winced when he heard the pop in his neck, stumbled to the side and reached up to grasp his own face as Stiles brushed his hands down and smoothed out the front of his shirt. That was a very easy way to give Derek an answer to such a sarcastic question to begin with.

Hale cursed, bit down on his lower lip, "Feel better?" he seethed through gritted teeth.

Stiles watched him carefully, watched him straighten up and square his shoulders, watched Derek Hale not give a damn that they were about to run off and face their deaths. 

"You said we're gonna get in our Jaeger," Stiles swallowed, looked down when his co-pilot took a deliberate step into his space, "that we're going to protect the people we love," maple eyes blinked at the ground and he saw Derek give a silent nod.

His chest hurt from how fast his heart had been beating and he hated the way he couldn't keep his hands from shaking, but Stiles inhaled a quiet breath when Derek stepped in closer and bumped his foot against Stiles' boot.

Stiles blinked, looked forward to where Derek was tilting his head to the side, "Who’s gonna protect us?"

Derek's lips drew tight into a thin line and he pushed a breath out through his nose, reached forward and took Stiles' chin between his thumb and index finger. The sun was still rising and one of their phones was ringing and what they were about to endure was unavoidable, but his co-pilot leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to Stiles' lips.

"Lydia," Derek said clear and crisp into the air between them, "Lydia is gonna protect us." 

\------------------------------

The sound of her heels bounced off the walls in Isaac's apartment and he listened to the way she held her breath every time he opened his mouth to say something. She was rushing, strawberry blonde hair swinging around her shoulders in ringlets as she turned this way and that, gathered papers on the counter next to the microwave and dug through her purse in the chair next to the couch for her cell phone. The doctor had never seen her so flustered, so unorganized and unprepared. He'd never seen her stumble to keep her composure- even after Jackson. 

"Lydia-"

"I'm fine," she didn't bother giving herself time to chew on the words before she spit them out and continued to fish through her purse, cursing under her breath when her phone still didn't make an appearance. 

"Lydia," Isaac pressed again only to receive a deliberately loud sigh from the woman.

"I need my phone, I need to call Allison and-"

"Phone," Isaac repeated slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he held up the sleek black cell phone.

Bright hazel eyes softened before they closed and the woman slouched quietly against the back of the couch. Her chest rose and she huffed out a small breath as the doctor pushed himself off the counter and walked over to place his hands gingerly on her waist. Lydia leaned forward only slightly, letting his hands wrap around the flare of her hips, "Thank you," she nearly mouthed to him, voice coming out shallow and dry.

Isaac just nodded, gave her a small squeeze and a gentle sway before her forehead ended up resting between his collar bones.

They'd been arguing all night- Isaac trying desperately to talk Lydia out of drifting and Lydia assuring him with her smart mouth and heated wit that she was quite capable of handling herself. It'd been a circle of pleas and shouts, from Lydia shoving him away with her open palms to pulling him back in with needy hands. Their mouths had clashed and wandered, occupied each other with fragments of silence and hitched breath. In those moments the two found a way to pull the splinters out of the places inside themselves that they refused to show one another- words slipped past Lydia's lips that she never thought she would say again and Isaac breathed her in, choked on her, consumed her. 

Lydia rubbed her cheek against his chest when Isaac leaned down and pressed his lips against the top of her head.

"I have to do this," she murmured, eyelashes dusting his collarbone when she glanced up.

Isaac wasn't going to argue with her, he wasn't going to continue to tell her that she didn't. He wasn't going to send her off with the weight of another argument piled on his shoulders and the weight of his uncertainty on hers. So, the doctor nodded and peered down at her, tried to tell her with his eyes instead of his words how much she meant, the impact she had, and Lydia leaned up to capture his lips in a long kiss. Her lips were a little chapped but Isaac had fallen in love with the way they pressed over his mouth, the way she always tilted her head just a tad to the left and sucked in a breath through her nose when he parted his lips and smoothed his tongue along her teeth. 

He didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want her to grab the phone out of his hand and nod when his eyebrows knitted together in a last silent plea to stay with him instead of leaving. 

The woman sighed before she lifted the ringing device to her ear, “Hello,” she chirped pleasantly, eyes never leaving Isaac as Allison rambled off on the other end.

Isaac leaned down and kissed her.

She let the phone hover a few inches from her ear for only a moment before laying her hand on his cheek and pulling away.

“’l’ll be right down,” she assured before hitting ‘end’ and sliding her phone into the front pocket of her purse.

Isaac didn’t say a word, just listened to the echo of her heels bounce off the walls and the quiet click of the door as Lydia closed it behind her.

\------------------------------

Scott was pacing around the lab jabbering with Allison about the technicalities of what was to come. He repeated each modification he’d made to Gipsy Danger, Titan Omega and Lionheart- assured himself over and over that everything was in order. “Good to go,” he said, crackling his knuckles through a shaky sigh, “Everything’s prepped and ready, weapons systems are up to date and, uh, shit,” he cursed, reaching up to rub his fingers over his jaw, “I got everything right?”

Allison was fastening her hair into a pony tail but she nodded, “You’ve gone over it with me six times, babe. You did everything you needed to do,” the young woman cooed as gently as she could. 

McCall was always the patient one, the funny one, the positive one. He was always the voice that chimed in and reminded everyone about the good in situations, always the ‘we’ve got this’ guy who had something up his sleeve that could brighten even the darkest situation. But now, in the early morning hours on December fifth, Scott’s hands trembled, his throat tightened and he closed his eyes when Allison reached out for him.

Newton was getting the cords assembled for the drift with the Kaiju brain; Danny was typing something into his laptop and Hermann was sipping on a cup of coffee towards the back of the room. 

It was quiet- much quieter than that lab had been in years and Scott could hear the tiny quiver in Allison’s breathing when she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest.

He turned, nose brushing the strands of hair that hung astray out of her ponytail, “Hey,” he choked out, smiling when she settled her chin on the top of his shoulder. She shifted her weight in the sleek black tennis shoes she was wearing and the loose arm of her top fell over the jut of an angular shoulder. Allison Argent was beautiful and dangerous and soft and Scott chewed on his lip before he inhaled a deep breath.

“I have an idea,” he exhaled, moving to face her.

Allison nodded, tilted her head to the side.

“I think we should get married in August,” he blurted, leaning down to press his lips firmly against her forehead, “and I think we should have a baby.”

Tears welled against Allison’s eyelashes, her heart sprang and sputtered, but she only laughed to begin with. A soft, delicate, breathy laugh into his throat until Scott settled his hands on either side of her face and brought her lips to his own. To draw a card never seen in their deck, to offer something so far from what they had ever imagined for themselves- a life. A family. Normalcy. It was like relief had laid her hands across Allison’s chest and gave a gentle push.

She swallowed, nodded her head and didn’t let the fear they all were feeling leak into the idea of a future. Instead she gave another breathy laugh, “Yes,” her voice was sore from a night with hardly any sleep and her muscles were tight from training, “I think that sounds perfect.”

It was brief, but it was worth it, and when the sound of Lydia’s heels broke their whispered promise into the reality of the situation at hand both Allison and Scott gave a short glance to one another before settling back into their rightful places. Scott rested a hand on Lydia’s shoulder when she walked in and set her things down, Allison walked towards the open door, “I’ll grab some more coffee,” she tossed the words over her shoulder and Lydia nodded.

Everything was in motion.

The world did not stop turning.

The clock did not stop ticking.

Lydia’s deep red dress clung tight to her and her dark lipstick was striking against the pale complexion she worse so well. 

“Where’s Raleigh and Mako?” she looked to Scott who was digging in his pocket for his cell phone and raised a brow, “I expected everyone to be on time this morning-“

“Relax,” the warmth in Raleigh Becket’s voice was always like something soft and comfortable being swept over a tense situation, “Mako insisted on getting a run in this morning, blame her.”

The blonde smirked when he passed through the door, fingertips tapping against the frame as he did, with Mako at his heels, a scone in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. They looked as they always did, like a storm ready to be unleashed, a weapon ready to deploy. They moved with confidence, Raleigh with ease that made even the most seasoned pilots weary of his skill and Mako with her air of wisdom and the playful eyes of a woman far too intelligent and much too cunning to be trifled with.

Yet, they both offered a smile and Mako hummed when Lydia looked at the floor, “You look tired,” the ranger purred, “tea?”

Lydia shook her head, forcing her lips up-right, “Allison is getting me coffee,” she explained through a sigh and an apologetic shrug. 

A slender hand rested reassuringly on Lydia’s shoulder and Mako nodded through a soft smile, one that said ‘we trust you’ and Lydia reminded herself to breathe. 

\------------------------------

“She looks good,” Derek piped as they stood at Lionheart’s feet and looked up at the towering Jaeger.

Stiles nodded in agreement, “She looks ready,” he added, swaying to bump his hip against Derek’s waist.

It was quiet after that, just a small hum from Derek and a sigh from Stiles as they mentally readied themselves for what was to come. They took their time, each of them apologized at least twice over for being such brutes about handling the anxiety both of them felt outside the hangar. Derek was the one to playfully mention that he preferred going about things the way they had last night rather than swinging fists at each other. Stiles arched a brow and snorted a laugh but he couldn’t disagree. He would never disagree to a statement like that. 

“She looks ready,” Derek repeated Stiles’ words and tilted his head, jungle eyes tracing the line of his co-pilots jaw, “are you?”

The beta’s heart jumped and kicked against his ribs, his lungs were burning but when he rubbed the pads of his fingers together he didn’t feel a tremble in his hands and when he bit down on his bottom lip there was no lash of nerves that fluttered through his elbows and into his kneecaps. As anxious as Stiles was and as nervous as he had been, he was almost surprised to find himself more collected than he’d ever been during his time at Shatterdome. Perhaps he was used to it by now, used to the strain of this war and the uncertainty of all of it, or maybe he was drinking Derek’s strength and drowning in it. Whatever it was, Stiles was not a coward and he was not afraid. Even if he wanted to be, even if he knew he should be- he was not scared. If death was to come for them then he would die in a Jaeger with Derek at his side fighting for the ones that he loved and he would regret nothing.

It was the first time in many years that Stiles had the strength to understand his own power.

Honey eyes drifted over to peek at Derek through his black rimmed glasses and he offered a crooked smile, “Yeah, are you?”

The alpha simply nodded and jutted his shoulder towards the door leading into the cafeteria and Stiles turned to walk with him. 

It wasn’t busy but they could hear the twins laughing as soon as they walked past the door frame. They had each of their arms slung around Allison’s shoulders and dwarfed her in size. Aiden was chomping on a doughnut while Ethan patted the combat trainer gently on the cheek and then reached for a bowl of oatmeal.

Allison’s head was thrown back; cheeks splotched with a blush and she was enjoying a fit of open-mouthed laughter. It was warming to see their friends being themselves, to see that everyone was not already in mourning. To see courage instead of defeat.  


Aiden was the first to spot them and waved, pointed to the tray full of doughnuts and flashed a thumbs up which earned a grin from Derek while he shook his head back and forth while Stiles gave a half-hearted sigh. 

“Hey,” Stiles reached for Allison as she slid a few hot cups of coffee into a cardboard holder and she smiled, reached back and gave as much of a hug as she could with her arms full. 

Chestnut eyes widened before they narrowed and she gasped, fingertips poking at the welt growing on Stiles’ jaw, “Are you okay? What happened- Derek, did you see this, he-“

Her eyes narrowed further when Derek’s lips pursed into a thin line and he turned to face her.

A matching welt was growing prominently on his face as well. 

Allison inhaled a sharp breath, “Did you guys fight or fu-“

“Oh-kay!” Stiles hissed as a dark blush frosted over the tops of his cheeks, “No, don’t-“ he growled under his breath, “It’s not a big deal, just- we,” the ranger was waving his hands between them before he reached up to push his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, “it doesn’t matter! Any ways, hello, good morning, can you pass me one of those Oolong tea bags, please?” 

The woman rolled her eyes and a few stray strands of hair waved past her shoulders as she shook her head and handed him his tea along with a cup of hot water. 

Derek was playing with the twins, jabbering about the dynamics of the fight that was about to take place and Stiles smiled when he overheard Ethan assure Derek of their place at Lionheart’s side.

If the twins were anything, they were loyal. 

Stiles bit down into an apple while Derek settled for a granola bar and they ate while they walked, Allison taking long strides ahead of them and the twins humming a tune in unison behind them. He wanted it to be normal, wanted the day to pass and everything to go by like it would any other day in December. He wanted to ask Derek what he wanted for Christmas, Stiles wanted to go shopping with Erica and Scott- he wanted to plan a trip to see his dad. The nerves bubbled shyly in his stomach but he pressed them down and thought of Big Bear and how he used to go every year with his dad, used to roll around in the snow until the chill would bite at the tip of his nose and he’d take shelter inside next to the fireplace and read books on Egyptian hieroglyphics. 

Life had been simple before K-day.

Maybe life could be simple again.

They didn’t say anything, not until Allison rounded the corner and they followed her down the hall towards the open door of the laboratory. Not until Stiles heard Aiden hush Ethan and not until Derek inhaled a shaky breath and swallowed down a gulp of air.  


Raleigh and Mako were waiting with everyone else. By the time they got there the Marshall’s were there as well, Chris was talking with Danny and Newt was tuning the capacitors connected from the hard drive to the Kaiju brain. Stiles was at Danny’s side before anyone else’s, he laid a hand on his old roommate’s shoulder and sighed softly, “Hey, man,” the ranger tried to offer a smile but it came out forced and dry. 

Before Danny could open his mouth to respond Lydia cleared her throat and clasped her hands together, “Okay,” she smiled, all broken and wide, “Rangers-“ the red head gestured to the three teams in the room, “can someone recap with me the plan, please.”  


Stiles wanted to hiss and stomp, wanted to demand more time with the people he was about to fight for. The people who were about to fight beside him, but Ethan beat him to it and the ranger rolled his eyes and leaned against his brother, “Gipsy heads in first with tactical offense followed by Lionheart. We take the sides and circle around. Once you’ve broken through into the primary instincts you can re-wire the Kaiju brain which will trigger the rest to retreat back into the breach and detonate.”  


“And if one detonates on the field?” Lydia tilts her head to the side, clutched a clipboard to her chest.

It’s Derek whose eyes rolled and he huffed, “Try to keep the Kaiju as close to the breach as possible. Do not retreat.”

“Do. Not. Retreat.” Lydia repeated the words, tapping her nail against the back of the board as she did, “If you retreat you could trigger the Kaiju’s natural instinct to head towards populated areas which would completely dis-engage us from our mission.”  


Stiles wanted to panic. He wanted to taste the bile bubbling in his stomach and he wanted to feel his knuckles strain against the tight fists he was shaking to keep under control. But there was nothing. Just the flare of his nostrils and the deep breaths that he reminded himself to keep steady. Maple eyes pressed the room for cracks, for solid answers to the questions he had. The questions of why and when and how and if. The questions that always ended up having answers that were swaddled in the optimism of a future, the idea that they would survive- so instead of asking the questions Stiles knew wouldn’t have answers, he just shoved his hands in his pockets and heaved a sigh, “Be careful.” 

Derek closed his eyes when he heard his co-pilot utter the words. Raleigh nodded, Mako straightened her back. Lydia faced him; blinked mascara coated lashes and tilted her head to the side. Stiles was expecting an echo of his own words when he lifted his gaze to watch her from over the rim of her glasses, but the woman’s lips twisted into a smile and her brow arched, “Kick their ass.”

The twins barked out a laugh while Derek grinned smugly to himself. Allison was leaning against Scott, the worry in her eyes present even through a soft smile that formed over the words of her all-too confident friend.  


“We always do,” Raleigh breathed smugly.

Another voice sounded from the doorway accompanied by the squeak of small tires against the floor, “Hey-“ Erica hissed as she caught her breath, Boyd half holding her up in the walker, “do not leave without-“ her words got caught somewhere between her lungs and her lips. She turned her face away when Herc took a couple steps in her direction. A large hand rested on her back and she bit at him when he tried to hush her. Strong eyes pierced forward and she stumbled trying to lift a hand, gesturing for Scott.  


The engineer was at her side in a moment’s time, followed by Derek who growled under his breath, “You shouldn’t be up yet.” Green eyes flicked to Boyd who nodded and sighed, defeated and tired. 

“I’m fine, Derek,” Erica mumbled, reaching out and lifting her arms as much as she could to wrap around the other alpha.

Stiles felt his stomach twist and he bit down on his bottom lip when Erica’s eyes shifted to where he was standing. It didn’t take him long to convince his legs to move, to walk over and wrap his arms around her, feel her shake and lean into him. It took so much just for her to stand, to stay steady on her feet and through it all Boyd’s hands stayed pressed protectively over her hips. 

The blonde laughed softly into Stiles’ shoulder, gripped his arm and flashed a grin when she swayed back to look at him, “Isaac said he’s gonna get me in the pool, do some water exercises,” she paused, swallowed and blinked, “I was wondering if you’ll help me- when you guys get back, you’ll be there right? Isaac said I’ll need someone strong and Boyd-“ she swallowed again, pushed an uncertain breath out through her nose, “has been doing so much. So, when you get back… When you guys both come back,” Erica’s voice faded and Stiles watched her lips twist down.

“I’ll be there,” Stiles sighed, tightening his arms around her briefly before Chris opened his cell phone and cleared his throat in the crowded room.

“It’s time to go,” his voice was firm like always and he rested a hand on Allison’s shoulder, “head to the Drivesuit Room.”

The space between his lungs and his stomach curled in on itself and Stiles felt Erica squeeze his arm once more, felt Boyd lean over and wrap his arm around his shoulder. Heard Scott sigh and tell him that they were going to do great. Allison didn’t say a word- she didn’t look like she could’ve if she tried and Lydia eyed them both carefully from the back of the room. There was a quick hug from everyone, a wave, Danny nodding to Stiles in that ‘I’m right here’ kind of way that made the pilot want to break down and fall away from the rest of them. 

Derek glanced over his shoulder when Stiles moved past him and he opened his mouth to say something until he saw who he was walking towards. Danny opened his arms, gave a tight hug and Stiles’ breath shook, “You get it done,” the words were quick, “you get it done and me and Derek, we’ll-“ he swallowed, searched himself for something to say, “we’ll give you a running start.”

Danny nodded, rubbed his hands up and down Stiles’ shoulders, “Go get ‘em.”

When Stiles turned to leave he felt warm fingertips hit his wrist and mossy green eyes watched him carefully. Lydia blinked once, glanced from him to Derek and her lips parted. He wanted to wait for her, wanted to wait and hear what she had to say but the way her hands trembled told him that her silence would be easier. 

“Take care of him,” Stiles mumbled, shrugging towards Danny before he turned to leave. 

Stiles was stepping through the doorway when he heard her call ‘I will’ from where she was standing. He didn’t look back. Didn’t nod. Just kept close to Derek whose eyes were set straight ahead.

\------------------------------

When the three teams got to the top floor they paused and Raleigh hummed, lips pulling up into a smug half-smile, “You ready?”

The question was pointed at each of them and Derek shook his head, eyes rolling towards the ceiling, “As ready as we’ll ever be,” the alpha grumbled through something of a laugh. Stiles was beside him and he nodded, agreed quietly and watched as Mako raised a brow and poked her co-pilot playfully in the ribs. Raleigh squirmed, hissed down at her and the twins chuckled softly under their breath.

This was it- the end, the beginning, perhaps both.

Raleigh’s hand clasped over Stiles shoulder and the beta offered a smile, watched his mentor carefully from behind his glasses.

“Keep impressing me,” Raleigh purred and Stiles felt heat rise into his cheeks before he shrugged and his eyes crawled to Mako who nodded.

The young ranger gave a curt nod and Raleigh turned his attention to Derek who smirked when the blonde leaned forward and slapped a hand playfully on his stubbled cheek, “Glad you’re with us.” Derek huffed and nodded, didn’t say a word back.

“And you two,” Raleigh stuck his tongue between his teeth as he faced the twins who looked as eager as ever to get into their room and be suited up. Mako was sighing softly from behind her co-pilot, crossing her arms in the leather jacket covering her torso- she couldn’t help but snort a laugh when Raleigh hummed, “ears open, eyes open.” 

Ethan and Aiden nodded together, bouncing on their heels.

The six of them stood, each in a jacket representing the Jaeger they were about to board- representing the anger that each of them had, the passion that fueled them to fight. To win. To give the Precursors and their Kaiju resistance that they never expected.  


“We canceled it once,” Raleigh looked to each of them, “let’s cancel it again.”

\------------------------------

Stiles flinched when the metal spine was locked in place and he flexed his toes in the black boots strapped to his feet. The room didn’t spin like he expected it too and he beta didn’t taste confusion on his tongue like he had that morning. It was done. It was time. Everything was falling into place- into the permanence of destruction and the finality of ‘do or die.’ That’s what this was- do or die. It was the means to reject defeat, the ability to burn the promise of revenge and snuff it out with their own revolution.  


They were the revolution.

The door opened a few minutes after they’d been suited up and Isaac’s jaw clenched when he looked to the pair. He wasn’t wearing his white lab coat, but was instead dressed down in a pair of jeans and a red long sleeve shirt. A scarf was wrapped lazily around his neck and he inhaled a deep breath when he reached out to touch just below Derek’s eyes.

“I always tell everyone the same thing before they head into the Conn-Pod,” the doctor nodded to Derek and moved over to Stiles who removed his glasses and squared his shoulders, “Be careful around the Kaiju blue, try not to take a hit above the shoulders and remember that when you do take a hit you’ll feel it because of the neural receptors, they’re what allow to fight so fluidly.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, side-eyeing Derek who was looking down at his hands and flexing his fingers.

Isaac heaved a sigh before he took a step back and reached up to thumb at his lips nervously, “But,” the doctor paused, chewing on his lip before he crossed his arms over his chest and swayed on the balls of his feet, “this time I don’t have anything to tell you that you don’t already know because I’m just as in the dark as you are so…” 

Stiles looked at the ground while Derek looked at the ceiling.

“Take care of yourselves out there.” 

Isaac swatted them both on the back before he jutted his chin towards the door that led to the Conn-Pod and signaled for a woman on the crew to open it.

It was Derek who cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder as they walked towards the open door, “Isaac,” the doctors name came out clear and crisp, “you, make sure she’s okay, Lydia-“

“Go on, Derek,” Isaac nodded his head towards the door again and the Stiles watched Derek’s mouth hang open slightly before his teeth clanked together and he turned swift and deliberate, feet hitting the ground hard when he walked into the Conn-Pod. “I will,” Isaac called over his shoulder before one of the engineers closed the door.

Hale lifted his eyes to peer back at the doctor before he took his leave and Stiles felt his heart start to thunder behind his rib cage when the Conn-Pod door latched shut. 

\------------------------------

It was familiar. Everything. From the way their boots echoed against the floor to the red hue of paneled lighting above them- it was all so incredibly familiar. Steam hissed out of a vent settled to the upper right of Lionheart’s helmet and Stiles watched Derek move swiftly to his place on the left where the alpha took his time stepping into the clasps that gripped his boots and steadied him in place. 

Stiles did the same, felt the way the hydraulics lifted him and tapped a few of the buttons on the panel in the center of the deck. 

“Lionheart,” it was Chris Argent’s voice that came through the overhead speakers, “we’ll be initiating drift sequence in thirty seconds.” 

Stiles’ throat burned when he tried to swallow and he shook out both of his hands when he felt them start to tremble. This was it. This was really it. He wanted to be scared, wanted the explicit need to flee to be palpable but there was nothing except the shaky sound of his own breath and Derek sighing next to him. Caramel eyes dripped to the floor before Stiles lifted them and looked over at his co-pilot through the thick cover of his helmet and blinked, lips parted, eyes dancing from the alpha’s shoulders to the bridge of his nose.

Derek cleared his throat and his head tilted to the side when he inhaled a sharp breath, “You with me?” 

“10 seconds,” Chris’s voice shook the speakers once again and Stiles smirked, lips turning up into a crooked smile.

There was something about looking at Derek that was so jarring. He looked just as he did all those months ago, just as intimidating, just as gorgeous, just as profound and nerve-racking. But as Stiles inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, as his eyes made laps around the sharp angle of Derek’s jaw and the bow of his top lip- he saw so much more. Ash stitched together with remnants of a lost partner, strong hands and a strong mind that coaxed Stiles into himself and out of himself, eyes like the warmest nights in summer and a heart that burned steady like hot coals.

Derek Hale was Stiles’ constant- his furious, raw, explicit constant.

3…

Stiles slid his hands into the metal slots and gripped.

2…

“Derek-“ he swallowed, lips parted, eyes falling shut.

**Left Hemisphere Initiated**

Stiles’ back tried to arch against the heat that poured between each of his vertebrae and his teeth ground together when Lionheart swallowed him into her core. He felt the metal bindings pressed snug between the mortar guns on her shoulders, felt the way she strained at the intrusion of his mind- gasped for air when the surge of their Jaeger tore him open. The drift was silence but Lionheart was thunder, a scream that reminded the sky of its own rage and a force built in an age of desperation. There was a crackling buzz, like a bonfire chewing over the remnants of wooden logs and Stiles steadied his breathing, listened to the way his heart ran away with itself and reached out through the wires and the iron and the bolts to curl himself around Derek’s voice. 

The memories crashed against him like waves against a cliff and Stiles’ breath hitched when he felt the bitter cold of snow melting on his eyelashes. He inhaled long and deep the scent of pine needles and his lungs protested the chill that was brought with it. There was a crunch beneath his feet and when he looked up the sky was littered so clearly with the alphabet of the universe- stars bright and dim were splashed against the darkness and the moon hung low over the trees. Tranquility was such a pleasant rarity and Stiles could have leaned against one of the tall trees to his left or right and stayed there forever- but Derek said his name. 

“Stiles,” he called, distant and quiet.

The beta pressed through the memory, reached out with both hands and climbed through it until he fell unceremoniously into another. Falling was like a lightning strike and Stiles felt the electricity of it spike through his shins and into his kneecaps, felt it bite under his fingernails and into his elbows. 

There was the press of hands so steady against his waist, a short chirp of a young girl’s voice and then long brown hair flicking across the bridge of his nose. 

Laura had been beautiful and the way she said Derek’s name was the strum of fingers against a harp, gentle and smooth. Full lips spread into a smile and Stiles felt her hand on his cheek, “Derek,” she said his name again and Stiles opened his mouth, repeated the name and felt the pull of his co-pilot wade nearer and nearer until-

 **Right Hemisphere Initiated**

Derek held his breath as the storm of Stiles’ life wrapped him into a cyclone, spun him this way and that. It was sand between is toes one minute, Danny’s voice the next, a dog barking, ball bouncing, words pressing phrases into him like brands all in languages he couldn’t understand. There were waves crashing, the smell of cardboard and the gruff voice of his father going on about San Diego and how much prettier it was than Malibu- how the water was just a tad bit warmer. 

He felt the wavering pause from Stiles when he reached forward, the soft what if that the young ranger had kept quiet all morning and he pressed against it, felt through the familiarity that was his co-pilot and their Jaeger. 

The alpha winded around steel cables, felt the cold bite of metal on his palms and gasped when Stiles clashed against him. They were blind action, raw determination and clumsy wit drowning in the steady inhale exhale that both of them tried to keep under control.

Derek felt himself slam against Stiles consciousness and his eyes flew open. 

The HUD’s flashed and Stiles inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth before he looked over to see his co-pilot watching him steadily. He gripped the weapons module between his fingertips and gave a short nod, “I’m with you.” 

The drop was quick and Stiles heard Derek laugh from beside him, felt the pin-prick of agitated nerves flying through the two of them. Being inside Lionheart was like being inside of a natural disaster and doing with it whatever they pleased. Stiles flexed his hands, rolled his shoulders and when they connected with the rest of their Jaeger Chris’s voice came over the speakers, “Neural handshake is at 100 percent, rangers. Prepare for departure.”

The constant buzz of Derek’s presence felt like safety and his anger bubbling under the surface of Lionheart’s paneling reminded Stiles of exactly why they were there. What they had dedicated their lives to accomplishing.

“Lionheart,” Raleigh’s voice sounded through the Conn-Pod, “Titan,” he called to the twins and Stiles took in a steady breath, ignored the way his heart sputtered unconsciously in his chest and looked out over the horizon when the ocean breached their vision, “Get ready for a hell of a fight.” 

\------------------------------

Someone said ‘are you sure’, touched her shoulder and mumbled that there was still time to go back. Time to wait. Another voice, just as quiet, told her that it might hurt, that it would stick with her and she turned away to flip through files on her tablet. When the last person slid their hand across her shoulder and pressed a kiss against the top of her head, Lydia Martin closed her eyes and allowed her knees to shake for a moment. The woman rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, reached back until she could twirl the end of Isaac’s scarf between her fingers and sighed when he leaned down and rubbed his lips against the shell of her ear.

Danny was being strapped in and she could hear Hermann barking and huffing about being able to concentrate through the drift. With there being three of them the load should be lessened but Danny would still have to be able to find stability and upload the new programming into the Kaiju brain before the hive mind became aware of their actions. 

Newton shifted nervously in his chair, exhaled loudly through his teeth and reached up to chew on his nails, “Okay, Lydia,” he called to her, craning his neck to see past one of the test tubes in the middle of the room, “we have two minutes; you need to get on boarded.” 

The red-head’s eyes were on the floor, her fingertips still twisting in the fabric of the doctor’s scarf and she could feel the sudden weight of her decision bearing down against her chest. 

“Lydia,” Isaac’s hand snaked up to clutch at her own, “we can still-“

“I’m coming,” she almost choked and Isaac’s eyes closed from behind his glasses. She turned, sharp and swift and on point like she always was- blinked and laid her hand on his cheek. He smiled at her, fond and tired, and she smiled back, knowing and gentle, before he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss quickly to her lips. It didn’t last and when it ended Lydia’s lashes shielded her eyes from him. She turned and marched towards the back of the lab where Hermann waited next to open seat beside Newt, “Don’t mess up my hair,” she hissed casually when she sat down and crossed her legs.

Danny rolled his eyes, Newton scoffed and Hermann arched a brow as he slid the head piece onto her crown and set the sensors over her temples. The cascade of wires that was bound at the nape of her neck fell behind the seat and up to connect with the tube and the host brain which floated peacefully in the ammonia spiked fluid. 

Once Lydia’s place was set she gripped the arms of the chair and looked across the room to where Isaac stood with Allison and Scott. They watched her, Allison had her hand curled up by her mouth and Scott had an arm wrapped snug around her waist. He smiled and Lydia tried to smile back but her mouth stayed put, lips pursed in a thin line. Isaac just blinked, dark circles hugged the thin skin beneath his eyes and she watched his throat constrict, watched him swallow painfully.

“1 minute,” Hermann growled softly, “1… 1 minute,” he stuttered, repeated to himself again and again as he pulled a keyboard and extendable monitor head in front of Danny.

Newton was squeezing the arms of his chair and he craned his neck to look at Lydia whose glossy eyes never left the doctor on the other side of the room. “Don’t worry,” Newt’s voice shook, “I’m right here with you and I’ve, uh, I’ve done this before so-“

“30 seconds!” Hermann was scrambling, hoisting wires into his arms and placing them behind the three seats, running this way and that, clicking buttons and heaving in breath after breath until only one switch remained. 

Loud footsteps came barreling down the hall and when Herc walked through the door he gave a swift nod to Hermann as he sucked in a sharp breath, “Good luck.”

It was the last thing Lydia heard before her eyes squeezed shut and the marrow in her bones was set ablaze.

\------------------------------

They saw Gipsy Danger on the horizon when the helicopters detached the cables from Lionheart’s shoulders and let them drop down into the Pacific Ocean. Titan Omega was at their heels and the Jaegers made the waves look like a shallow puddle lapping at their heels. 

The breach was just a few meters away where the ocean floor dropped down below a reef and when they lifted their feet the two pilots could feel the strength of Lionheart’s waist gripping tight to her legs which carried them forward towards the rendezvous point. 

Nerves danced beneath Stiles’ skin but he took shelter in Derek’s willingness to fight and his passion for the cause that they stood so valiantly for. 

“I can hear it,” Derek growled, “I can hear all your thoughts up there,” he tapped on his helmet and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I know,” the beta snapped, “I can’t really help it, Der.”

The seasoned ranger chuckled under his breath, shook his head and glanced over to watch Stiles bite down on his lips, “I’ve missed it.”

He hated the fact that Derek could feel the way his nerves fluttered and his mind rolled over on itself but he smiled never-the-less, body craving the harsh thrash of firing canons and swinging fists- the connection of metal knuckles against sore alien scales and the smell of cauterized Kaiju flesh. 

Stiles reached over to the panel in front of the HUD’s and flipped a switch, “Raleigh, the perimeter’s clear, any word from Shatterdome?” 

“We have ten seconds, as soon as a Kaiju comes through we’ll see it on our radar, get into position!” 

The sky was clear and Stiles clenched his hands into fists as they walked behind Gipsy Danger. It was the first time the clock seemed to pause; the first time they had a moment to breathe, to ponder, to take in a deep breath and pretend that they were prepared. Stiles’ lungs expanded and he felt the press of Derek’s thoughts against his own, felt the steady vibrations of his co-pilot as they raised Lionheart’s fists and readied themselves for whatever it was that came out of the breach. 

Stiles could feel the thoughts of Jackson, of Talia, of Cora and even of Peter. He could feel the crisp breeze of an Oregon November and the taste of sweet cinnamon on his tongue.

Derek could feel Claudia, could feel the sheriff and Danny. He felt the bite of white tiles on his knees and the salt of ocean air in his nose. 

It was familiar, a home for both of them and the drift was the loudest silence that either of them had ever taken refuge in- but it was safe. 

“Three!”

Raleigh’s voice coaxed Stiles’ eyes to narrow.

“Two!”

Derek inhaled sharp and slow.

“One!” 

A blue blinking light appeared on the HUD followed by another only a second later confirming that the team back at Shatterdome was correct in their findings of a double event. 

They tried to keep their eyes on the readings that blinked on the panel but the overwhelming urge to watch the surface of the water was too enticing and the two rangers found themselves staring intently at the ocean and waiting for a sign or a signal to move in. 

There was no way to be comfortable, no relaxation, and Stiles was thankful of that when Mako’s voice shouted through the speakers and the ocean was shattered by a Kaiju, large and slender, leaping its way out of the depths. 

Stiles’ heart thundered in his chest and his throat burned as he tried to get a better look through the spray of water. 

Blue. Always blue. 

It was different, with the thick drag of an arched back, spines curving up from the top of its neck and the base of its hips. There was a lean torso, long legs and needle point claws on knuckled fingers. Its head was narrow, large fleshy ears twitched on its crown and four eyes, two on each side, sat high on its face. When the Kaiju curled its lips back long fangs were exposed and as it crouched down in the water, situated on a reef only a few feet away, Stiles and Derek watched nine bony tails whip and wave behind it.  


“Say hello to Huli,” Chris Argent’s voice was loud, “watch it close, it looks like it has a mean bite.”

“Huli?” Ethan’s voice interrupted, “That’s the name of the vicious fucking Kaiju-“

“It means fox!” Mako hissed.

Gipsy Danger was moving and Lionheart was right behind them, swerving left to make room for the more seasoned pilots to give a head on attack. Raleigh and Mako made it seem effortless, making such precise movements that it almost seemed rehearsed. They jumped, striking down to aim a hit directly on the Kaiju’s jaw. It was close, close enough for Stiles to think that maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as he thought, maybe Danny had already done the job, but nothing was that easy and Huli snarled defiantly in protest. 

Stiles hated seeing emotion in the Kaiju but this one, this fox, looked like chaos and it looked angry.

One of the tails swaying behind it shot forward, slamming against Gipsy Danger’s torso and sending them flying backwards. 

“Plasma canon,” Derek’s voice came after his thoughts and Stiles already had his hand lifted, palm out, fingers twitching as heat radiated up his arm and into his shoulder. Huli hissed, snapped its jaws and slithered through the water, tails whipping furiously behind it. When the Kaiju lifted off the reef it toppled into them with all four feet, claws imbedded into metal, and Stiles flinched when he heard the crunch of iron, the bend snap and break of their Jaeger. He could feel it. Sharp jolts of pain, like someone had his arm twisted, his fingers bent back but the high pitched howl that echoed next to their helmet told them that their plasma canon had been a direct hit. 

“Gipsy!” Stiles choked out, relief washing through him when he prodded at Derek’s thoughts, “Respond!”

“We’re fine, we’re gonna kill that son of a-“ Raleigh grumbled, biting down on a curse before he continued, “that son of a bitch.”

Titan Omega was barreling forward, running over the water and leaping into the air. The twins were good at fighting. Good at killing. But they weren’t good at listening and Mako’s voice was a shriek over the Conn-Pod speakers when she yelled at them to keep their position but it was too late and as they made connection with Huli, grasped its torso, ripped it from Lionheart and sent it flying through the air- the ocean waters shattered once again and a flash of deep cerulean scales darkened their vision.

\------------------------------

Fire. The sear, burn, sizzle crisp of cooked bone marrow and electricity. 

Lydia wanted to scream. She wanted to rip herself away from the third-degree heat that exploded inside her. Her body fought- twisted, cracked, writhed but the drift was strong, stronger than they had imagined, and she was consumed by the Kaiju.  


First it was Jackson. The touch of his hand was butter against her cheek and the ghost of his lips like feathers dusting along the nape of her neck. His voice sounded distant and she strained to get to it, reached out and stumbled to grasp it with both hands.  


“Please,” her throat closed, lungs collapsed and she stretched weakly towards the fading sound of her late-husband as he disappeared into a sea of memories. 

There was so much and it all tasted like poison, burned her tongue like acid as she chewed over each memory as they passed by. The memory of Pentecost, of Shatterdome, of K2, then back to Jackson and Lydia wanted to scream. Her head pounded, ached, throbbed and she wanted to reach up and dig her nails into her scalp, rip herself out of her body and fade away. Words echoed around her, the sound of Jackson laughing was loud and sharp against Isaac’s tired shouting from the night prior.  
It was torture and Lydia felt tears soaking her eyelashes.

She said his name, “Jackson,” whispered it like a prayer but it wasn’t his presence that found its way to her, no, through the thick fog came something noxious and thick. It felt heavy- profound, rough against the cloud of Lydia’s mind and she gasped when the Kaiju’s hum morphed into a screech and further into a roar that shook her into submission. 

It felt like nothing and it felt like everything. It was dominant evolution, the complete scientific bridge that blended cloned warriors and experimental weaponry. They were powerful. Incredible. She reached for emotion, swung herself in the direction of some kind of understanding. 

Just let me know you.

It was all she kept repeating, again and again as it flung her this way and that- disrupted her memories with its own and shattered her with a deafening growl. 

The anti-verse was beautiful in a way that terrified her. Everything glowed, vibrated with energy she didn’t understand and what she saw within it racked her with a newfound desperation for escape. The Precursors built them, tested them and sent the strongest in waves to the front lines. They were living beings designed for the sole purpose of destruction.

Lydia tried to keep steady, latched on to the Kaiju and hoped to god that it was enough to let Danny in. 

\------------------------------

“Aiden!” Derek’s voice was loud and it wracked Stiles’ mind when the water crashed over them.

Lionheart fell back into the ocean once Huli had been ripped away from them but what they looked up to was not a blue sky but instead was an open mouth- cheeks expanded and jaw lowered. The Kaiju’s tongue was long, curling between two rows of sharp teeth. There was a horn protruding from its nose, sturdy and blunt, which it slammed into Lionheart’s helmet, cracking the thick shield that protected the pilots inside. 

Stiles gasped, struggled to free one of their arms and gritted his teeth, “Mor-“ his voice faltered when the Kaiju shoved its horn down against them again, “Mortars!” 

Scott wasn’t lying when he said he’d worked on the Jaeger’s speed because the large canons raised over Lionheart’s shoulders fired almost immediately, knocking the sturdy Kaiju backwards. Two holes were blown through its stomach causing a splatter of blue blood to fan over their Conn-Pod.

They didn’t have time to catch their breath.

Titan Omega was struggling with one of Huli’s tails wrapped around their arm, swinging them carelessly into a reef. 

Gipsy Danger stormed the fox-like Kaiju, firing their plasma canon which blasted through its chest. The screech that followed caused Stiles to wince, his eyes squeezed shut and he gritted his teeth.

The twins were in trouble and he could hear Ethan sputtering over himself through the speakers, “Aiden’s hurt-“ he hissed and as Lionheart got to their feet he could see the German Jaegers shoulder hanging on by only a few sparking wires, “we’ve lost our left side.” 

They were running out of time.

Gipsy was charging forward again, intercepting the newest Kaiju with steel knuckles to the side of its face. Lionheart followed- reloading their mortars as they went, “Get Huli!” Mako shouted, “Behind you!”

Derek said Stiles’ name, questioning, curious, a statement of ‘should we’ or ‘can we’ and they turned just in time. Huli whipped one of its tails, aiming it to wrap around their helmet, but both Derek and Stiles snapped their hands up, curling a deadly grip around the fleshy limb. 

Stiles’ stomach fluttered and he heard Derek laugh from beside him, “Got ya.”

\------------------------------

It wasn’t dark like she had expected.

The Kaiju’s mind was lit with memories of the anti-verse, of being born and going to war. She could feel the connection of its hide and how it smashed against Titan Omega. She heard it wail in agony, felt it call for help that never came. It was a sad existence and Lydia almost pitied it.

Almost.

She let it take her where it wanted, let its memories flood across her own and snuff them out. 

It went on for far too long, long enough to exhaust her and long enough for her to call out for Newton- long enough for her to wonder.

But soon enough there was a change and she felt the snap of jaws and a flood of something close to an emotion. Something that she didn’t understand but wanted so bad to know. The red-head strained against the confines of the Kaiju mind, reached out and only found the walls of the hive, moving in waves like a systematic virus- dormant and ready for activation.

“Danny,” she said his name, bit down on her lip and winced. Something sharp and cold made its way into her mind, stabbed at her thoughts, scrambled her and Lydia couldn’t help but scream. She screamed and cried and thrashed inside herself because it hurt. It hurt like nothing she had felt before. Not like the fire. Not like the weight. It was completely different and as fast as it had pierced her mind, it left.

Left her empty and pliant and calm.

That was when she blinked.

Looked around.

And found that the fog had receded. Found the drift empty.

“The drift is silence,” she whispered.

That was when she realized it’d worked. 

\------------------------------

Huli snapped its jaws and clawed at Lionheart, tried with all its might to curl up and latch onto their arm. The other eight tails were whipping around, slamming against the Jaeger over and over again while Gipsy held off the other a few meters away.

Titan Omega stood and aimed their plasma canon, pointed it at the alien which growled and hissed.

Stiles struggled to keep a hold of it but Derek was strong and he gripped tight, kept his eyes locked on the Kaiju while his thoughts spiked in the direction of his co-pilot. There were no questions. He didn’t ask if Stiles was okay or send any comfort, there was no need, he just reached out and made it clear that they were together. Derek curled himself around Stiles’ thoughts and he didn’t waver, didn’t even slip, just stayed put and stayed strong. 

It was easy for the beta to grip back and it was easier not to let go.

Titan Omega’s plasma canon glowed, shook the right arm of the Jaeger and Stiles gritted his teeth, heard Derek yell ‘c’mon’ and braced himself for the impact of the blow before Raleigh’s voice interrupted, “Stop, Titan, stop, look!” 

Stiles’ eyes widened and he would have stumbled if Derek didn’t have them grounded firmly in place.

The second Kaiju had its back to Gipsy and was staring blankly in the direction of the breach, its short tail waved behind it and Stiles could see it take a couple hesitant steps.

It was only seconds later that he felt Huli go slack in his grasp, felt the Kaiju only squirm slightly. He watched it, watched the way the creature closed its mouth and took in a deep breath when Raleigh ordered them to let it go. The order was un-natural and his mentor almost sounded hesitant when the words came through the speakers. They took their time, Derek glanced at Stiles, tilted his head questioningly before Stiles gave a short nod back.

It was all they had- the uncertainty. 

Stiles bit down on his lip, felt his stomach twist into knots and held his breath as they uncurled the large metal hand from around the Kaiju’s tail, letting it sink into the water below. 

\------------------------------

Lydia felt it.

She felt the apprehension. The sudden urge. The instinct. 

And she felt the burn of flesh, the disintegration of bones, the crumble of organs and the certain promise of death. 

When she opened her eyes she could hear someone screaming, heard them wailing and crying. She saw figures, shapes, but no faces and when one finally did come into view it was Isaac and he was hushing her, calming her, wiping at her cheeks and assuring her that she would be alright. Seconds later she realized it was her own screaming that echoed around them and she clasped her lips shut, felt her teeth clank together and tasted blood in her mouth.

A napkin was pushed gently under her nose and she gagged when she realized the blood was her own.

“You did it,” Allison was crying, grinning wide as she ran a hand through Lydia’s hair, “You guys did it.”

Hazel eyes blinked and Lydia felt a lump gather in the center of her throat as she looked around Isaac to where Harmony was wrapping an oxygen mask around Danny’s face and calling for the doctor.

\------------------------------

They watched it happen.

Each of them.

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip while Derek gripped the weapons module and tried to breathe.

Raleigh waited, steady and controlled next to Mako whose lips were gently parted, eyes wide as the two Kaiju made their way back to the breach. 

It was slow. A game. 

Ethan looked to his brother who kept muttering that he was okay as he gripped his hurt shoulder.

It was quiet as the Kaiju sank beneath the waves and Stiles felt his heart beat rapidly against his ribcage, felt Derek’s nerves flare up.

He braced himself for another attack, wondered if he should tell Derek he loves him in case the two decided to detonate- the thought itself only earned a side-eyed smile from his co-pilot, an ‘I know’ of sorts which made Stiles sigh and roll his shoulders back, steadying the mortar guns. 

The Kaiju signatures disappeared from their radar and Stiles held his breath.

“Rangers,” Chris Argent’s voice broke the silence moments later, “mission complete.” 

Stiles wanted to collapse, to fall to his knees and just breathe but Lionheart didn’t budge and instead he decided to laugh. To throw his head back and laugh, let his eyes squeeze shut and throw his helmet to the side. It was over. All of it. They had won. His eyes stung but no tears fell and Stiles bit down on his lip through the grin that wouldn’t leave. Raleigh was congratulating them; Aiden and Ethan were also laughing, cursing and hollering. 

Sharp honey eyes turned up to find Derek looking back at him, green eyes soft and calm, “Hey, we aren’t dead,” the alpha purred. He arched a brow at Stiles who shook his head, unable to fathom any anger at such a sarcastic statement, especially when Derek was looking at him, a smile curving his lips up, hands at his sides. The depth of his eyes were something Stiles could lost in. Something Stiles would get lost in and he didn’t look away when Chris told them to report back to base.

He just pressed himself forward through the drift and felt Derek, strong and stable and alive beside him.

\------------------------------

They didn’t speak on their way back to base. Stiles just took in breath after breath until Lionheart was secure and the Conn-Pod doors opened. 

It didn’t take long for him to step out of the bindings but Derek had been quicker and before Stiles could stumble his way across the deck his co-pilot was at his side, hands gripping the beta’s waist, twisting him roughly until they fell together. “We did it,” Stiles choked against Derek’s lips, “I can’t believe we-“ the next kiss was hard and bruising as a large hand smoothed up his side and rested on the Stiles’ face. 

“Yeah,” Derek exhaled, pulling Stiles into a tight embrace, lips finding their hold on the younger pilot’s throat, “We did. We did it.” 

They didn’t bother changing but they both ran through Shatterdome, heavy boots clashing against the floor as they skidded around corners and ran down flights of stairs to get to the lab. When they got there Lydia was under observation but she smiled at them, mouth shaking as she did. Harmony was taking her pulse and Stiles swallowed painfully when he saw the broken capillaries that bruised her eye, a deep red mark right next to her pupil on the left side.

Newton was swatting at the nurses hand who was trying to steady him, “I’ve done this before sweetheart, just-“ he shooed her, “go help her.” He pointed to Lydia who couldn’t stop shaking and took a shallow drink off a glass of water. The red head gasped when the nurse reached up to put a rag under her nose again, absorbing another thick drip of blood.

Stiles looked around, his eyes searched from one end of the lab to the other.

Allison’s arms were flung around his shoulders and he caught her, one hand braced on the small of her back. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but he did hear Scott laugh and felt the engineer slap his hand over Stiles’ back.

“Where’s Danny?”

Derek was crouched next to Lydia when Stiles blurted the statement. His hands were trembling and he smoothed a wise hand down Allison’s spine, the other coming up to touch Scott’s arm. Large eyes narrowed from behind his glasses and Stiles swallowed again, “Guys,” he tested, twirling around to look at the other side of the lab, “Where is Danny?”

Lydia’s lips were pursed tight and she coughed when she tried to speak.

Newton was the one who pointed a finger towards the open door of the room and heaved a sigh, “They took him down to medical.”

Derek shouted for Stiles to stop but the beta almost tripped over himself when he turned and started to run.

\------------------------------

Stiles was heaving in breath after breath when Isaac stopped him in front of the infirmary. 

It was quick and the doctor blurted out, “He’s fine,” before anything else. The ranger closed his eyes, caught his breath and swayed on the balls of his feet. 

All he had pictured since he left the lab was Danny’s catatonic face, emotionless and pale, eyes wide and bruised, blood leaking out of both his nostrils- but what he found was a young man asleep on a cot with an IV in his arm. He looked peaceful and Isaac sighed softly when Stiles tried to crane his neck and step around him, “Stiles,” Dr. Lahey smiled soft and knowing, “It’s a lot. He strained himself, exhausting himself. He’s completely coherent and he’ll be fine. All we did is give him a sedative to help him sleep and make sure his vitals were okay, which, they all were.” 

The beta nodded, exhaled and bit down on his lip before he felt Isaac lean forward and embrace him in a tight hug. 

“You guys did good,” he nodded against Stiles shoulder, “Thank you.”

Stiles could hear Derek’s footsteps and when Isaac stepped back Sties turned to watch him.

Derek’s bottom lip hung slack, his eyebrows gathered together and Stiles smirked, reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, “He’s okay.”

Derek released a long breath and nodded back, “Everyone’s meeting,” the alpha shrugged his shoulder towards the stair case, “on the main deck.”

Isaac told a few of the nurses to watch Danny and assured Stiles that he would be taken care of.

They walked together, the three of them, and Stiles breath hitched when Derek’s fingers slid between his own and his co-pilot gripped his hand.

\------------------------------

The Marshall’s were there.

Lydia, Allison, Scott, Erica in her walker with Boyd, even Peter. They were all standing together and Newton was sitting in one of the chairs, spinning back and forth with a grin on his face. 

Isaac went straight to Lydia who was still shaken up but had her nose bleed under control and had cleaned her face. Her hair was tied back and she wore a smile, sinking into the doctor when he wrapped his arms around her waist and moved to rest his front against her back.

Stiles hugged Erica and when she didn’t say anything he understood, Boyd patted him on the back, told him that they were all proud of everything they’d accomplished that day and Stiles wished he could have found the words to express what he was feeling. It was too much and it was just enough. All of it. Everything had come so suddenly to a stop, everything that they needed to halt had been halted and Stiles didn’t know how he was supposed to take a step and continue on- how he was supposed to continue moving.

Aiden’s arm was in a sling but he was smiling and when he arrived with his brother they stayed close to Derek and Stiles. 

Raleigh and Mako were next, walking hand in hand to receive hoots and hollers, praise and embraces. It was twice now that they had cancelled the apocalypse and Stiles was proud to stand at their side. 

The warm gaze of his mentor was appreciated and Stiles smiled when Raleigh nodded his chin in their direction, “Lionheart,” his voice rose and the room quieted. He looked to Ethan and Aiden, “Titan Omega,” the twins smiled and straightened their backs. 

Derek’s boot bumped against Stiles’ and he gave his hand a tight squeeze.

“I was proud to fight with you today,” he smiled down at Mako and let his arm rest around her waist, “the breach is closed.”

There was more applause from inside the deck as well as from outside on the hangar floor below. Stiles smiled when Derek leaned over and rubbed his nose against his temple. 

“Now,” the blonde turned, looking at the clock on the wall, “what should we do?”

The war clock was still ticking, seconds melting into minutes that melted into hours. 

Derek’s breath was warm against the side of Stiles’ face and when the ranger turned and found his lips it was soft and sure. 

There was no more what if, only when and the idea of a future was now just the beginning.

“Stop the clock,” Stiles breathed a whisper against Derek’s smile.

“What was that ranger?” Raleigh barked through a laugh, turning to watch his protégé roll his eyes.

The beta turned, reached up and pushed his glasses up on to the bridge of his nose, “I said stop the clock.” 

The room was full of smiling faces and Raleigh nodded, bottom lip rolled between his teeth before he looked to Herc Hansen and Chris Argent at the front of the deck.

“You heard him,” Chris laughed, leaning over to slam his hands down on the desk, “stop the clock!”

Shatterdome erupted into applause and Stiles felt his heart kick-start in his chest. 

Lydia’s eyes closed and Isaac pressed a kiss against her cheek.

Scott was twirling his fiancé around, her face buried in the side of his neck.

And Stiles watched as the numbers on the clock disappeared. He watched and he inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth. He felt Derek’s hand on his shoulder, heard him say his name and when he turned he faced the reality of his future.  
Something beautiful and chaotic and something that was his. Someone that was his.

“We should get out of here,” Derek mumbled against the pout of Stiles’ lips and he smiled.

“We’ve got time,” Stiles sighed, wrapping his fingers around Derek’s jaw.

Time was a burden. It always had been.

“Plenty of time.”

\------------------------------

Notes:

you guys have no idea what it means for me to complete this. I don't know how I feel about the ending just yet but I really hope that you guys enjoyed this journey as much as I did and I hope I did not disappoint. Thank you all so so so much for reading, especially to those of you that have stuck with me since the beginning.

I'm going to be going back through and fixing some formatting problems and simple grammar/spelling mistakes that me and my beta didn't catch the first time around so if you're going to re-read it in the future it might be a little less sloppy :P

thank you guys again, from the bottom of my heart, this fic was one of my babies and it's so bittersweet finishing it <3

here is a [soundtrack!](http://lion--ness.tumblr.com/post/87539848507/breach-below-lionheart-soundtrack-these-are)


End file.
